The HoG25: The 25 Best Television Shows of the Past 25 Years (Part I)

If you frequent the House of Georges, or even if this is your first time here, there's one thing you should know: We like to argue. We've made this our bread and butter for two and-a-half years now, and we don't have plans to change anytime soon. Thus far in this particular series, we've covered quarterbacks, movies, hitters, books, starting pitchers, and now it's time for us to tackle some boob tube. Please, join us after the jump for the first of two parts of what we've deemed the best television programs for the past quarter century.

25. The Tom Green Show

Bankmeister: I took a lot of grief for drafting The Tom Green Show. Sure. It had a large ridiculous element to it. Sure. It might’ve gotten old quicker than most hits. Sure. Other efforts -– see: Jackass and Crank Yankers -– at real-life absurdity may’ve been more popular, even though they debuted long after TTGS, but Green’s show was the first of its kind, that kind being a brand of television that would bust your guts and make your cheeks sore with laughter. When the program first aired in 1994, there was a lot more on-set conversation than skits, a ratio that would sway heavily in the opposite direction. It was in these early years, however, that the content of the show, with very little actually happening on it was so damn funny that it frequently made me tear up.

There’s something to be said about genuine laughter, too. I’m a big fan of stand-up comedy, and one of the first to admit that there are very few comics that can just kill it. I don’t mean to compare Green or his show to the efforts of some of comedy’s best, but the ability to instill such horrific laughter is praiseworthy at best. The Tom Green Show, as egocentric as it might’ve come across, attempted to do nothing more than to make people laugh, and for that I applaud it.

The low-budget set featured Green at his desk, pal/co-host Glenn Humplik in a neighboring chair, and other buddy/co-host Phil Giroux behind a window behind Green and Humplik. Giroux seldom did much beyond sip his coffee and chuckle, but that was all it took; it was God-damned hilarious.



If I could find more clips like that, I’d finish all of my selections with them and little more. But the show progressed and they hit the streets. There was the time he pretended to be a cripple:



The time he spent in Japan, where he most notably rode the subway:



And the list goes on:



It would be foolish of me not to mention the tens of dozens of pranks he pulled on his parents, which he’s probably most remembered for, but I would argue that these bits were very far from his best work. The idea for the show was original, bold, daring, and frankly, one of the funniest (at times) bits of television ever recorded. I’ve never looked at ratings or tried to gauge its popularity, but for a moment, The Tom Green Show was one of the best damn things on television, period.

24: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood

Cecil: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood has no equal in the history of children's television -- well, OK, you can make a very tight case for Sesame Street, but don't be bringing any Captain Kangaroo or Electric Company up in this piece, because we will fight. Nothing but love for those shows, but step away from Fred Rogers. That means you too, Sid & Marty Krofft supporters, with your sandal-socks combos and single-room apartments filled with He-Man action figures. If you mention Blue's Clues or Dora the Explorer, our security guards will escort you from the premises.

There is no equivalent in today's market. Can you imagine any kind of television executive, even one who works on the public airwaves, greenlighting a show that features a middle-aged man in a cardigan talking directly to very young children? But MRN worked because Fred himself was the real deal, a minister who approached this work with genuine grandfatherly affection for his little viewing audience. He never talked down to you, he never pandered to you. He calmly and patiently showed you the value of being kind, of listening to the opinions of others, of being respectful to the world. I would like to take this opportunity to quote from a column by the excellent Leonard Pitts, one he wrote following Rogers' death:

Consider something Rogers told Nightline when he retired from his program two years ago. He mentioned a letter he had received from a woman who had been abused and raped as a child. "She would find her solace," he said, "in going into a little room that had the television. And she said, "'I really believed it when you said that people could like me exactly as I was, because I really didn't like myself that much at first. But I really came to believe you."'

"The space between the television and the girl became," said Rogers, "holy ground. A place where she could believe she was seen. And that somebody cared."

And that's why you don't fuck with Fred Rogers.

23: Quantum Leap

Bankmeister: Quantum Leap was one of my favorite shows as a kid. I never really knew anyone that watched it religiously, so I didn’t get much opportunity to talk about it, but I thought it was fantastic, and still fondly reflect upon it. My reasons for holding it in such high regard are several:

Originality: While the concept of time travel has been written about, produced, and recorded in many ways throughout pop culture, it has never been done with the eternal desire to make right what once was wrong. That is, many characters in time-travel stories engage in the activity for personal betterment, be it past, present, or future. In Leap, however, Dr. Sam Beckett (Editor’s Note: Excellent name choice), played by Scott Bakula, participates in the project in order to save the life of an individual not related to Beckett himself. The project, though successful, goes a bit haywire, sending Sam into perpetual travel, ultimately making many things that once went wrong into potential corrections.



With the help of Al (Dean Stockwell) and Al’s device that connects him with Ziggy, Sam is left to figure out what situation he’s in, how he might go about fixing it, and of course, who he is.

Benevolence: Sam, Al, and Ziggy, regardless of the embarrassing nature of each situation, become invested, albeit in varying degrees, in each episode to be successful. Of course the ultimate goal is to get Sam home to his own body and life, but they (mostly Sam) wind up caring for those involved.

Twists: Sam lands in the bodies of many different folks, and often times is, or encounters a person of historical significance, almost always lending to an educational aspect for the viewer. Frequently, there is a love interest involved, which, if I remember correctly, happened exclusively in situations where Sam inhabited a male’s body and therefore found himself sought by an attractive female. As an adolescent, I likey-d the spice. Finally, with most shows, a conflict arises, and it is solved by the episode’s end, or it is long, and drawn-out through an entire season, if not multiple ones. The ability to resolve each extremely unique situation, move on, and continue to demand viewer investment with only two real characters, was a move seldom seen in television of the late ‘80s/early ‘90s.

I really enjoyed looking forward to where Sam and Al would find themselves next week, and with the snippets the last few moments of each show would give, always found myself mirroring Sam’s thoughts: “Oh, boy.”

22: NHL 2Night

Bankmeister: It’s not easy being a hockey fan in America. I won’t get into why: That horse’s good and beated dead. I’ll say this, though: Most everyone loves football. A lot of us love baseball. Some of us love basketball. I’m speaking of the professional organizations. We grew up either playing these games, watching them, or both. We get the rules. We’re, to some degree, inherently good at at least one aspect of one of those three games. Most of us didn’t grow up around hockey, so we don’t get it, we don’t think we’ll like it, or simply have zero vested interest in trying. I love hockey. I’ve been a fan of the game for many years. I pull for the St. Louis Blues, and, before I was married, I watched a ton of their games. Now I see fewer of them, but I watch when I can, I attend one or two a season, I still play recreationally, and I follow the National Hockey League.

Ten years ago, and actually even more recently than that, ESPN televised a lot of hockey. There were nights that games were on ESPN and on the deuce as well. The lockout happened, ESPN said “no thanks” to a contract renewal with the league, and thusly cancelled NHL 2Night. It had a great 10-year run (1995-2004) and was super-entertaining, even, I posit, to the non-hockey fan. I watch ESPN’s NFL programs. I find their baseball and basketball programs far from stimulating and tiresome, mostly because I catch the highlights, blips, and news bits I need either before those shows air, or elsewhere. Hockey was never given a ton of time on SportsCenter, and it gets even less now. But, when NHL 2Night was on, it was poignant, full of incredible highlights from all the game, and it was damn witty.

John Buccigross is probably my favorite anchor of all time. He’s educated, meshes well with all of his co-hosts, and he’s funny. He would oftentimes draw comparisons of key players to musicians, and he always killed it, leaving one with the impression that he’s got a wide taste in music. For example, and I’m totally making this one up, they’d show a killer game-winning goal by Joe Sakic, and Bucc’ would say “What Thom Yorke is to Radiohead, Joe Sakic is to the Colorado Avalanche.” He had many other varieties of clever sayings as well. Like, a clip with an amazing save from Martin Brodeur, and he’d hype the shot leading up to the save, and then holler, “Brodeur! Groovy kind of glove.” Of course, it sounds dumb and cheesy reading it, but when he did it, it was impressive.

In an 82-game season that has baseball playoffs at the beginning and football happening through roughly the first half, it’s hard to keep up with what the rest of the league is doing. NHL 2Night iced that cake eloquently and what better to pair Buccigross with than Barry Melrose. Barry Melrose might’ve worn 15 different styles of mullet in his day. He might be a Canadian. He might wear his hair greasy, and he might be a prick. But, the man knows his hockey inside and out, and he’s a damn fine television personality. With Melrose, Bucc’, and the content of the show, it was one of the best around, and certainly one of the best sports shows on in the last 25 years.

21: Friends

Cecil: Friends gets a lot of crap, and rightfully so. It basically set the template for bad '90s relationship comedies, of which there were a metric shit-tonne. (Yeah, tonne. I'm thinking of moving to Montreal.) While it's hard to forgive the dreck that it inspired, there are two reasons to give it a spot on this list, this list which features no Night Court or Murder She Wrote:

1. Sure it's easy to make fun of in retrospect, but admit it, you laughed. There were moments. Joey was appealingly stupid. Ross wasn't too bad before David Schwimmer started getting movie roles and Chandler, played by whatsisface, was a character on a sitcom. It batted about .285, 75 RsBI a year, solid glove.

2. Jennifer Aniston. Seriously the only reason that most guys would watch this show without a girlfriend's insistence. She might be kind of a pop cultural meta-joke these days, but we have to remember just how absolutely smoking she was in the mid-'90s. Yeezow. Assuming, that is, that you could make it through the umbrella-dancing opening before switching back to scrambled pornography.

So, there you have it. Friends. Not exactly The Rockford Files, but that one didn't make the generational cut.

20: Dexter:

Old No. 7: All right, I'll just go ahead and say it now. Comparing premium-cable shows like Dexter to broadcast programs is completely unfair. If you're on HBO or Showtime, you get three massive advantages over appearing on a network: You get to cuss, you get to show boobs, and you don't have commercials. The difference between a premium-cable show and a network show is greater than the difference between the superior American League and the inferior National League. It's more like comparing the majors with Single-A.

For this reason, I have a ton of respect for network shows that are good. The folks that make them essentially have one hand tied behind their back. That being said, Dexter is pretty fucking awesome. You see what I did there? I cussed. Like they do on Showtime. Unregulated sports blogs have advantages that corporate Web sites do not -- quick, post some nudity.



Although it's only been on the air for a couple years (Season 4 just premiered, yo!), Dexter deserves placement alongside these classic programs. It's got a clever premise -- forensic investigator moonlights as vigilante serial killer -- but what makes it great is its constant challenging of its viewers. Dexter Morgan (played by Six Feet Under's Michael C. Hall) is extremely likeable and charming, yet every once in a while he veers down a road that makes you wonder why you're rooting for him.

19: Liquid Television

Bankmeister: Let me state for the record that I absolutely hate MTV. It pisses me off when that channel is on in my home, or anyone else’s for that matter. The programming that airs on MTV is nothing but fake, retarded, mind-numbing crap, and I wish it would go away. I do, however, love the original concept of the channel. I have really enjoyed some of its productions over the years, but now I don’t even understand the point of it, its design, if you will. Part of that problem is the larger topic of television, which has gotten -– and admittedly based on demand -- so out of control, that networks make spinoffs of their own shows and programs and channels and the consumer eats it up. All of this, of course, costs more money, and I, am not willing to spend more than it costs to have the good old-fashioned basic-cable package. Therefore, I don’t even know where one goes nowadays to see music videos.

But now that that’s out of the way, Liquid Television opened up the viewing minds of America in 1991, and remains a cornerstone for off-the-wall, somehow-intellectual, creative television that you still see debuting and airing today, some 18 years later. I remember, somewhere beyond the baked cobwebs in my brain, this program coming on in the late evenings, stacked next to Unplugged, and feeling as if it was the best one-two punch on television, the Diff’rent Strokes/Silver Spoons of the new generation of you will. It gave us music videos, bizarre skits like Aeon Flux, Dog-Boy, Stick-Figure Theater, and of course, Beavis and Butt-Head. There were, of course, many others, all respectable in their own regards, but it was Beavis and Butt-Head that became the icon of the show in a fashion not comparable, but similar to The Simpsons coming from The Tracey Ullman Show.



Beavis and Butt-Head, uh, ruled and stuff. It was low-brow, mindless humor that somehow, reached millions of viewers and put Mike Judge on the Hollywood map. The two teen boys, with their rock tees and their dreams of stardom, poked around their unidentifiable-yet-familiar neck of the American woods with a timid-while-daring stupidity that always equaled a good laugh. They were, perhaps, the touchstone for dick- and fart-jokes seeping in to today’s media. They made boners and bowel movements more laughable than they already were, yet had the acuteness for pointing out other areas of an intelligence-challenged society. If I’d had the foresight to create a character that once called himself The Great Cornholio, I could probably hire someone to clean my bunghole with t.p.

18. In Living Colour

Bankmeister: Ah, the Wayans brothers. For a moment in time, they were the most innovative crew in television. Their program was like a new, shorter version of Saturday Night Live but with quicker, wittier sketches. Like SNL, they had live musical guests, but they also had Fly Girls. More on that, though, in a moment. The reason In Living Colour merits a presence on this list is because of its raw brand of comedy. The Wayans Brothers put together an incredible cast of up-and-coming stars that included Jim Carrey, David Alan Grier, Jamie Foxx, and Tommy Davidson to say the least.

The show’s more memorable sketches included: Homey the Clown, in which Damon Wayans would utter his token phrase, “I don’t think so…Homey don’t play ‘dat.”; Men on Film, in which Wayans and Grier were two gay film critics and would snap their synchronized fingers to movies heavy on the dudes, and offer their “Hated it!” in the direction of pictures that were not; the Homeboy Shopping Network, in which Wayans brothers Damon and Keenen Ivory would attempt to peddle stolen goods ("Mo’ Money, Mo’ Money!") until the cops arrived; Fire Marshall Bill, in which Carrey would portray a cooky fire marshall that always caused injury to himself, just after saying “Letmeshowyousomething!”; and of course Hey Mon, in which multiple cast members resembled a family who did nothing but work. They would frequently argue about who had more jobs and call each other lazy by saying something like, “You only got five job, mon.”

There were a number of other great sketches, like Great Moments in Black History, and several one-time pieces, like the guest appearance from Chris Rock, wherein his character could never afford anything and try to finagle his way into deals, always saying “My Lord! That’s a lot of money!” when told the actual price of an item. And of course, the Fly Girls. They were choreographed in the likes of a Madonna show or a Janet Jackson video: quick, flashy, and impressive. And they were all very fly indeed. In Living Colour was something to look forward to each week for a solid five years.

17: The X-Files

Bankmeister: The reasons why The X-Files kicked all the ass are many. First and foremost is the ongoing theme centered on the possibility of other life forms in the universe. If you haven’t thought about that at least once in your life, then there’s probably something wrong with you. The next is conspiracy theory. Never have I seen a show take its primary idea -– the paranormal, the extra-terrestrial –- and so successfully wrap it around the possibility of government cover-up. The third is the two main cast members, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I’m not gonna lie: If I was held at gunpoint and it was demanded of me to name a man-crush, Duchovny would be at the top of the list. Honestly, I think he’s a great actor. I’ve enjoyed most every role he’s played, and specifically, the fact that he pulls a ton of wool in every one of them. For the most recent, check out Showtime’s Californication. The bigger part though, is Anderson.

I’ve had a pitched-tent that wouldn’t fit into Woodstock for her since the first time I laid eyes on her. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, and skilled at her trade. And gorgeous. The pairing of the two was a phenomenal move by show producer Chris Carter. Duchovny’s Fox Mulder is the believer in the paranormal, the poster boy behind the phrase “The truth is out there,” and Anderson’s Dana Scully is the doctor, the scientist, the realist, assigned to Mulder’s X-files to basically disprove every theory and idea he has. I became obsessed for a time with this program. I didn’t much care for the episodes that involved monsters and werewolves and the like, filler for the true plot in my mind. But it was the idea of aliens, abduction, the plan for colonizing earth and human beings for the greater advancement of alien life that hooked me.

Throw in mysterious characters like the Cigarette-Smoking Man and his band of know-all, beat-you-to-the-punch henchmen and the suspense couldn’t be any greater. I dug The Lone Gunmen. I dug most everything about the show until agents Monica Reyes and John Doggett were introduced. I stayed on board because it was good enough to warrant it, but I was massively disappointed by the series finale. I still find myself intrigued, however, by the occasional rerun, especially if involves the sultry Scully toying with the notion of finally giving Mulder a piece. This series had a huge following for a reason, and could’ve tapped an even larger audience had they gone the route of soft porn with the two agents. Fantastic show.

16: Six Feet Under

Cecil: If The Sopranos started that great run of HBO dramatic programming that continues to this day, then Six Feet Under took the anchor leg. Aside from the aforementioned show, it's the best thing that HBO has ever done -- and consider, upon reading the previous, that I'm a huge Deadwood fanboy.

The simple plot, a family who runs a funeral business and deals with (for the most part) the relatively normal ups and downs of life, belies the depth with which Alan Ball and company wrote it. Sure, he occasionally went to the well of complete ridiculousness -- the bit a few seasons in about the murder of David's wife, for instance -- but for the most part he worked with situations that were sometimes banal, sometimes brutal, sometimes revelatory, but always deeply rooted in the familiar. We could identify with the responsible son feeling pissed at his Peter Pan brother while dealing with his own closeted nature, with the teenage daughter who couldn't believe this family was hers, with the mom who finally took charge of her own life after years of giving care to everybody else and thinking of herself last.

The dead frequently spoke to the living in SFU, which might seem ham-handed on the surface but really acted as a nifty way of expressing a kind of poetic reflection that never resorted to any overt and simple-minded ghost story tricks. These scenes were some of the most poignant, such as when Ruth re-marries and her deceased husband -- one of the major characters, even though he dies about 3 minutes into the very first episode -- is shown sitting on the porch with his head in his hands, smoking a cigarette. Six Feet Under was a masterpiece of writing and acting and, probably, deserves an even higher mark than we're giving it here.

15: Friday Night Lights

Old No. 7: If there is a more misunderstood television show out there I'm not aware of it. Try to follow along, please.

The original Friday Night Lights was a 1990 nonfiction book written by Buzz Bissinger. Yes, the same Buzz Bissinger who completely lost his mind while appearing on a forum with former Deadspin editor Will Leitch. Bissinger's book spent a year in the life of the football team at Odessa Permian High in West Texas, and was excellent (I'm familiar with the area; my dad's alma mater plays in the same conference as Permian). But that's not the Friday Night Lights we're talking about here.

Then a movie was made based on the Bissinger book in 2004, directed by Peter Berg. It used actors playing the real characters from Permian, and it kind of sucked. Football's a difficult sport to turn into filmed drama, which is why there's never really been a good football movie.

Then Berg decided to create a TV version of Friday Night Lights, but instead of real-life Odessa Permian he manufactured fictional Dillon High. This is what gets confusing, especially for folks that either read the original book or watched the movie. It's also a little misleading to even say that the show is about football, or sports. FNL sidesteps the difficulty of recreating football onscreen by nearly ignoring the Dillon Panthers and focusing almost exclusively on the characters and struggles surrounding the team, the school and the town.

It's a truly remarkable show, but anything I write about it will be less impactful than this passage from Chuck Klosterman:

Friday Night Lights is such a brilliant, effective TV show that — sometimes — I don’t enjoy watching it. Very often, I will feel on the verge of tears throughout an entire episode; it is the most emotionally manipulative show ever made. Part of it has to do with its brilliant use of music; if you play "Explosions in the Sky" loud enough, the process of hanging drywall can be a life-altering experience. But the larger reason Friday Night Lights is so moving is the way it taps into all the conservative impulses most mediacentric intellectuals try to ignore. The show’s moral code is so traditional and pure that it borders on cliché. It’s reactionary in the best possible way. Whenever I watch it, I find myself thinking, I bet my parents would love this.

I don't know a single person who has given this show a chance and hasn't loved it. It is a critical favorite, yet has never received high ratings. This is surely due to the confusion about the book and movie, as well as women not wanting to watch a football show (and men thinking a football show will be weak). But my theory as to why FNL has never caught on is simple: NBC is basically locked into airing the show on Friday nights, and almost everyone has better things to do on Friday nights than watch TV.

14: The Office

Old No. 7: Yes, I've seen the original British version, but you'll never convince me that it's better. Steve Carrell's Michael Scott is simply one of the finest television characters ever created, Everyone has had a boss like Michael Scott at some point. If you haven't, I hate to be the one to break this to you: You are somebody's Michael Scott.

The thing that impresses me the most about this show is its ability to bring new characters in and ditch old ones yet never miss a step. I was a huge Toby fan, yet his absence is inconsequential. Adding Andy was awesome. Even additions that haven't worked, like when Stringer Bell had an arc and fellow Wire alum Amy Ryan played Michael's girlfriend Holly, were quickly dismissed and forgotten. I'm positive that even mainstays like Dwight Schrute, Jim Halpert or Pam Beesly could move on and the show would still kick ass. Only Michael is indispensable.

This is surely a testament to great comedic writing. I have no idea if Michael Schur (the brains behind Fire Joe Morgan and currently head writer on the dreadful Parks And Recreation) is still working on The Office, but whoever's cranking out these lines gets three cheers from me.

13: Family Guy

Bankmeister: When Family Guy first aired in 1999, it was so good that I was baffled when Fox canceled it after just a few episodes aired in its second season. Fox obviously realized its mistake and brought the show back, and it has been uber-successful ever since. If you’re unfamiliar with the show, then shame on you. It’s cast includes the family who, most notably include the talking dog Brian and the clever, British-accented baby Stewie. There’s the paraplegic neighbor, the lecher neighbor, the actual pedophile neighbor, and the black neighbor. There are others, too, but mostly the family has a conflict to resolve in each episode, and the means they take to get there are mostly in contrast to what normal problem-solving skills might resemble.

In addition, the dialogue in the episodes manipulate language in order to make innuendos and crude jokes, which, if you don’t find humorous, shame on you. There are the asides, as I like to call them, as well. Or tangents, if you will, in which various cast members are having a conversation about one thing or another, and decide that one choice would not be wise, as it might resemble “that time I…” and the segment breaks away into something unrelated, but typically funny. These bits, along with others, are often used to draw numerous pop-culture and ‘80s references into the program, which are pretty hilarious.

I understand that the show has been criticized for myriad reasons, but those critics are idiots. If you can’t embrace the horny, drunken dog, or the conniving, hysterical talking baby, then really, what’s left for you in life? Family Guy is the bizzle, dizzle.

12: 30 Rock

Cecil: Tina Fey is the shizzle. Not only is she one of the most deft writers currently working in television comedy, but that librarian-glasses-smart thing works for us in a big way. So does her current project 30 Rock, which I humbly submit to be the best show currently on any non-cable network.

It's so tight, so ridden with subtlety and sneaky jokes that it has achieved that rarified air, occupied in my viewing lifetime only by the glory years of The Simpsons, where I just can't get 'em all because I'm too busy laughing and have to wait for the re-run to see what I've missed. (Since I also mention this in my (redacted) bit, you should know that it's a very serious indicator in my eyes. I don't take this humor shit lightly.) Tracy Morgan has the role of his lifetime as Tracy Jordan, and its possibly because, according to pretty much every source I've ever seen, he's simply playing himself. The guy is a flipping loon. Alex Baldwin continues to prove that he is better than every single other Baldwin combined, and twice so in Stephen's case. Even Judah Friedlander has a role in which I don't find him obnoxious, which is something by itself.

This comedy that expects you to keep up, comedy that doesn't beat you over the head with cleverness -- because it doesn't need to. This is Jordan in his prime, Ted Williams in '41, Traci Lords pre-scandal.

11: NFL Countdown

Cecil: NFL Countdown was must-watch viewing for the entire run of its existence. That, it need not be said (though I am anyway, because I'm a contrarian asshole), is an unusual quality for any show, much less one with such a narrow scope.

Or was it, really? After all, practically everyone in America who isn't a gay terrorist loves football. They like to watch football, think about football, talk about football, slur insults under their breath to football players they see at bars. They even like to watch highlights of games they may have no rooting interest in -- maybe because they have a few bills on the Bills or a couple of bucks on the Ducks, sure, but also because fans of NFL football will generally watch anything remotely related to the sport. I know, I've willingly sat through at least 10 NFL skills challenges.

It's hard to remember, now, but Chris Berman wasn't always so creepy and lame. There was a time when he seemed like a jovial ringmaster, the comic foil to the deadly serious tone taken by so many analysts and anchors. He kept the show moving, hit his cues and you could hardly imagine him finding a better fit in his professional career. Tommy Jackson, of course, is an absolute hero whose name should never be taken in vain by any football fan anywhere ever. NFL Countdown was the perfect confluence of subject and personality; it's hard to believe that they decided it needed the shelf after such a run. I blame Berman.

There you have part one, folks. C'mon back tomorrow for the top 10. We'll be waiting for you.