Oh, just one more thing, sir...
Rather than stay impotently annoyed that we still close the post office every year to honor a sadistic sociopath, I've decided to voluntarily undergo a mild psychotic break from reality and pretend that, henceforth, the second Monday in October shall be dedicated to remembering everyone's favorite rumpled, cigar-chomping LAPD homicide detective instead. Happy Columbo's Day, everyone.
Lieutenant Columbo is in many ways an ideal hero and role model for progressive-minded individuals. In 69 episodes spanning 10 seasons spread over five decades, Columbo could not once be found hovering over a dead gangbanger in South Central or harassing poor people in Watts. No, for some reason, Columbo's beat was always the rich and famous: movie stars, powerful businessmen, sports stars, bigshot professionals, arrogant people who believed they could get away with murder and concocted elaborate plans to avoid detection. Into this glamorous world came a little man in a rumpled raincoat behind the wheel of an ancient Peugeot jalopy, babbling like an idiot and putting the villains' minds at ease that, if this boob was the detective investigating the case, they had nothing to fear. Oh, how very, very wrong they were.
Columbo was not a "whodunit": in almost all cases, viewers saw the crime being committed at the start of the episode, and the fun was in watching the initially buffoonish detective systematically break down the murderer's alibis and misdirections until none were left and the killer stood exposed. Time after time, episode after episode, year after year, the money and power of the wicked proved no match for the wits of a working stiff who kept his eyes open and asked the right questions.
So let's take advantage of this lovely mid-October Columbo's Day to discuss all things Columbo. What was your favorite episode? Who was your favorite killer? What do you think Columbo's real first name was?* Was the 1959 Peugeot 403 Cabriolet truly the finest car ever made? Discuss!
* My guess: "Lieutenant."