Before Sue Sylvester haunted our Valleys of Insecurity, Detective Dr. Romano pranced his way into our hearts as a community rep theater headliner woefully miscast as a show tune-spouting officer of the law.
Yes, kids, before there was Glee there was Cop Rock, an ahead-of-its-time lead blocker for the scores of offerings to come that successfully fused made for TV legal melodrama with low grade Broadway shimmies into a pitch-perfect, pelvis-rocking stew. For one show to expose so many of our nation's collective insecurities in such a neat package was, in a word, remarkable.
I know some lawyers and a few have shared with me the deep, soulful wish they have had to show the world that the law and the dance are equal partners in crafting modern jurisprudence.
You want to secure a damning statement from a slimy witness who says that your perp could not possibly have pulled the trigger? Well I say cue the band, snap your fingers, and raise the roof in a blast of musical truth that can leave no doubt that he's a detestable cock-bite who would sell his own mother for a $10 blowjob.
You know the only thing Cop Rock was guilty of? How about having the bold vision and audacity to want to dance into America's hearts, shut the door and never leave. For that I will always love Bochco's failed darling.