Before they were stars

Or, at least, before they were the stars they are today.

I got back from Boston last night, and had the day off from work today, which was sooooo nice. The Smelmooodid have to work this morning, so he got up with Tucker and let me sleep in (huge, huge points awarded to the Smelmooo for this one). I planned to go to the gym when I got up, but Tucker was just so snuggly that I felt instead compelled to lie around the house in my pajamas, watching bad TV with the pup at my side.

First we watched part of one of the beach club episodes of Saved by the Bell (in fact, it was the farewell luau of the beach club summer), so we got to see Leah Remini post-Living Dolls and pre-King of Queens (and also pre-defending-Tom-Cruise for his goodheartedness toward other "good people" -- you know, those who don't believe in psychiatry or antidepressants), declaring her love for Zach Morris and sort of mumbling her half-hearted agreement to write him, every day, from her college back East.

But I was more intrigued by Denise Richards's appearance on this particular episode of SBTB. Believe me, I'm no fan of Denise Richards, in this or any other role, but I do sort of admire the way that she's handled her divorce proceedings and the involvement of Charlie Sheen with their kids. Anyway, back to the beach: Denise Richards has an inexplicable crush on Slater, which she can articulate only through anonymous love letters (delivered, for hilarity's sake, on a remote-controlled truck on the beach) and by pretending to drown so he'll rescue her. And it works -- they're totally dates for the luau, and when he calls her "chick" or something and pre-Showgirls-radical-feminist Jesse Spano asks why Denise Richards tolerates such treatment, her big line is, "With dimples like that, he can say whatever he wants." What a disgusting message, Saved by the Bell (and what a wooden performance, Denise Richards).

Anyway, next up was a little bit of Dawson's Creek, and I couldn't help thinking how far from Joey Potter the new "Kate" Holmes now seems. Mopey Joey Potter, who today was feeling particularly angsty about having lied to Dawson about sleeping with Pacey, and then about getting into her dream fictional college but then not having the financial aide and deciding she'd rather forgo the dream than take out a loan, blah blah blah, is all so...plebian compared to riding around on a motorcycle, being seen and not heard as your man puts you in a vise grip to make out with you on the red carpet. smiling fondly as your poor parents back in Toledo wish you'd just stayed with that bland but seemingly decent and stable Chris Klein. The Dawson's Creek episode also reminded me how surprised I am that Michelle Williams is carrying Heath Ledger's baby, and how much more interesting a post-DC acting career she's had than Kat(i)e.

Somewhere in there, the episode of Who's the Boss where Angela's ex-husband gets married and wants custody of Jonathan was on, but really on that one I just kept thinking about how heinous the new wife's wedding dress was, and trying to figure out whether it was supposed to be funny, and then Alyssa Milano started cooing over how beautiful the bride was and I realized that, in fact, in the '80s that was sort of the standard wedding costume, with the poofiness and the million layers of fabric and the giant headgear.

Anyway, finally, we passed -- very quickly -- an episode of Full House, one of the later ones when Jesse and Aunt Becky had their twins, sort of the equivalent of the Cousin Oliver episodes of the Brady Bunch, or those godawful Billy episodes of Who's the Boss, when the youngest kid is no longer young enough to fill the adorable quotient, so they feel compelled to bring in new blood (always, always a bad idea). Anyway, I was trying to figure out whether the Olsen on screen was Mary Kate or Ashley, and then I was wondering if Mary Kate and Ashley ever watch Full House, and whether they're sort of embarrassed by it, but I guess they don't so much sit around watching bad TV with their dogs on their days off. But to me, it was just perfect.