(Photos are from Google Images. I do not own these images.)

I woke up at 5am. I felt ill and took some Tylenol and thought I’d check Facebook. I’m not sure why I picked Facebook; Tumblr’s my usual go-to place. At the top of my Facebook newsfeed was a post by my sister. She is always posting celebrity deaths, so her posts consist of my nieces and this year, the death of my childhood apparently.

I saw the RIP and gasped when I read the name: James Garner.

My eyes welled up and a tear or two escaped.

I watched a lot of TV as a kid; still do. A lot. I could name pretty much any actor and I recognize them in other roles as well as by their voices if I’m not looking at the screen. I like so many of them that it’s hard to pick a favorite. I mean I could pick ten or twelve, but pinning it down to one is almost impossible.

Unless James Garner’s name comes up.

I adored James Garner.

He was my childhood hero.

Jim Rockford.

The Rockford Files.

Most of my friends know of my intense dislike, hatred, phobia of water and the beach is my least favorite place. So it would probably surprise them that because of Jim Rockford I wanted to live in a trailer on the beach.

I also wanted to be a private investigator. I don’t have the skills, but what the hell?! Anything is possible with Jim Rockford as my mentor.

If I couldn’t be a writer, I would to be a private eye. The logistics didn’t matter. Jim was everything. He wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t loved by everyone. He had a shady past. He carried a gun. He had an answering machine. I don’t think we even had an answering machine back then.

And his car. Loved his car.

Today, I wore a brown poly-blend shirt with a collar in honor of his hideous brown polyester trousers and huge lapels. Ugh! It’s hard to believe that that look was ever popular.

I talked about Star Trek fandom the other day, and I fan-ficced the hell out of Jim Rockford.

I can hear the opening music in my head.

I’m going to miss him so much.

You will always be in my heart.

Rest in peace, Jimbo.