"...Sha-La-la-laaaa..."

"Well there ain't no nothin' we can't love each other through..."

Many people remember the show Family Ties as the weakest link in what was, in retrospect, actually a fairly lame Thursday night schedule. Remember the Thursday night juggernaut that sent chills of the spines of TV execs working for CBS and ABC? (Oh, my mistake...TV execs don't actually have spines.)

The Cosby Show sucked like I suck down Pudding Pops (i.e. mightily). Night Court might have been good if it weren't for that ambiguously gay judge and the frequent "Velvet Fog" afflictions. Cheers is really the only show from that night that even comes close to holding up over the years.

And then there was that show about the dirty hippie parents with the "ditto-head" demon-spawn and the borderline-retarded older sister...I bet those hippies regret all those acid trips now! They also had a sickeningly cute baby, and no other kids.

It's funny how all these shows I haven't seen in so long can still be so fresh and clear in my mind; almost more like instinct than memory. When the subject of Family Ties comes up (and let's face it: what day doesn't it come up), three things immediately flood into my mind:

-Alex P. Keaton managing his lame sister's lame girl group, making them sing "Mr. Sandman" all over Ohio.

-Sit Ubu, sit! Good dog.

-And now, the image of that cute little whippersnapper sitting on Elyse's lap beating womens.

What would we do baby? Without love?