Oh, Christian

Look very closely at the hairline on my favorite 80s  n'er do well heartthrob.  I spy some poorly masked reconstructive hair surgery. And if you take a look at the ads for his new show, My Own Worst Enemy, it's clear his trademark combed-back cut is front and center, poised for a comeback- hair plugs be damned. 

It's a shame, really. I spent countless teenage nights wishing some psychopathic vigilante would move to my town, MC a local radio station or join the local police force to help me solve the mystery of my brother's death. Oh wait, I never had a brother. 

Anyway. Time marches on and I'd be willing to bet two dollars that regardless of the rugged Mr. Slater's slowly receding hairline, my finger will hover above the remote for more than a minute the night of the premiere. If for nothing else than to close my eyes and listen to that raspy, sardonic voice and imagine my heroic rescue by a man with a baboon heart.

Ah, romance. True romance.