Growing up, on Sunday afternoons with nothing to watch on TV, I'd idly flick the channels and always seemed to come across this show about British people in space. I had a burning curiosity as to why one of them had an "H" on his forehead so I'd stick around for a bit, hoping it would come up. I could never understand what anyone was saying, so I'd give up, annoyed and un-entertained.
Then I guess my ears developed or something, and it was the time of year for the PBS "Red Dwarf" marathon, as I then realized it was called, and I fell in love with it. I figured out that Rimmer was dead and a total smeg-head and that I had this burning need to watch all of them one after another for an entire weekend. The next year I waited in anticipation, blank VHS tapes at the ready, and a chocolate bunny and some peanut butter by my side (the marathons were always around Easter it seems).
Now Will and I are borrowing the DVD collection from our local rental place and burning them, woohoo! Soon I will have all my Red Dwarf at my side again and NOT on disintegrating VCR tapes! It's dang exciting.