In 1992, I was just a kid sitting in front of the TV, flipping through channels, looking for something—anything—to watch. No cartoons. No sitcoms. Just golf on one channel and an old businessman sitting at a desk on another. He had that Southern drawl, the kind that made him sound like the KFC Colonel, except […]
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In 1992, I was just a kid sitting in front of the TV, flipping through channels, looking for something—anything—to watch.
No cartoons. No sitcoms. Just golf on one channel and an old businessman sitting at a desk on another.
