As anyone in my office can tell you, we've had precious little home time as of late. Long hours, working weekends, it can make you appreciate the little pleasures and comforts of home all the more. To my surprise, I've recently found the oft rerun King of the Hill to be one of those small comforts.
Maybe it's Hank's soothing qualities of suburban domesticity. He's the kind of weird American man that certainly never appears in my world that much – a man's man who knows how to use power tools and could save you if you got a flat tire on the highway.
Or maybe it's the leisure time outdoor beer drinking that neighbors and friends regularly indulge in, a practice that in this blustery and sad season seems like a dream miles away. Or perhaps it's the comfortable familiarity of the sitcom format. Conflict arises, the characters' worlds are all mixed up but within twenty two minutes, all is well and back to normal… sigh.
Really though, it's Bobby that gets me through the nights. I adore that chubby, kind hearted kid who loves troll dolls, fruit pies and wants to become a prop comic when he grows up. When I catch a Bobby-centric episode, I know I'm in luck.
It's well written show by any standards, cartoon or not, but it never seems to get the same respect that the Simpsons or other animated shows on Fox command. In fact, it was cancelled earlier this year to make room for a Family Guy spin off. Boo! I'll take Mike Judge over Seth McFarlane any day and, with King of the Hill repeats airing nightly, I can do just that.