On The Jazz
On The Jazz Newsletter: Volume 2 Issue N°16

Date: May 6, 1996
Author: Nicole Pellegrini
Download: otjv02i16.zip

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The totally unofficial A-Team electronic mail newsletter
***** Now in it's second year of publication !! *****

Reflector submission address: [email protected]

Administrivia: Nicole Pellegrini
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The A-Team Homepage: http://www.seas.upenn.edu/~pellegri/ateam.html
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*Home of the On the Jazz Newsletter Archives**
DATE:   May 6, 1996
ISSUE:  16
Greetings again, everyone.

Got a number of news/info tidbits to pass along this week, along with another great A-Team story, so let's get started...

Good news to everyone who has been working to get CH to carry A-Team videos! The following message was posted to the ONJ reflector this past week:
From: "Jordan Goldberg"
Subject: VIDEOS
Date: Fri, 3 May 1996 15:57:37 -0400

I just talked to columbia house, and they have gotten all their requests for the videos. They will carry them BUT they need to find a source that still makes them. If they do then, they WILL definitely carry them. So, at this point, they have gotten all their requests. To find out if they got a source, you will have to call them to see, as requsets will not help any more.
As always I'll keep everyone here posted on any more news on the videos. A big and well deserved THANK YOU and JOB WELL DONE to everyone who helped with this campaign. Now let's hope they can find a good source for the tapes and that they will be available soon...!

Some more info and news from one of our "non-electronic" members, Rita Ractliffe this week. First, an update on NIGHTMARE for those of you who are waiting for copies:

"I'm doing another run of Nightmare as you have generated a lot of interest in it. Thank you so very much. It depressed the hell out of me when I only sold a few copies when I brought it out initially. I've found however that I'm always ahead of time...so when I do something, it will become topical about 5 years later."

Also, Rita sent me a flyer for a 'zine she propsed doing six years ago but received no interest in at the time, so it never happened. However, it sounds like a great idea and I think some of you might be interested in getting involved in this:
"Are there any people left out there who still enjoy the A-Team??
"One such lonesome person is looking for submissions for a new effort, to be called TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS -- What were the reactions to the "trial" of the A-Team from all the people they assisted over the years? Did any of them try to help in any way? At least, try to find out what was happening? Make any grass roots efforts to help; etc? It's an interesting premise and could show after-the-facts of what happened to a lot of these people... how the A-Team's assistance changed their lives.

"Well, this weird person is looking for such stories... more like vignettes, reminiscences and the like. If enough interest is exhibited, could even do an adult section; however, no "/" material is sought.

"Stories should be 1-10 pages in length, typed (and if you have Word Perfect disks or Microsoft Word disks, submit the disk and hard copy.

"I know I'm hopelessly out of date on this. But I just can't quite let loose of them. Always felt there was more... not always the persona we saw on the tube, but the possibilities that were never touched on.

"MURPHY'S LAWS WERE MADE AT THE EXPENSE OF THE A-TEAM! So let's see some of them in action!
Rita D. Ractliffe
15500 Erwin, #297
Van Nuys, CA 91411"
As a side note, remember that now's the time to start working on submissions for "Plans Scams and Vans #3" and "The A-Files." PSV#3 is for just about any A-Team based stories, articles, etc., and "A-Files" is specifically for X-Files/A-Team crossovers (although I am considering broadening the concepta bit to include any A-Team stories with a real supernatural/conspiratorial twist.) For more information on both of these go to the web page at

As mentioned on the reflector last week, I'm currently embarking on the rather heinous job of putting together a real A-Team FAQ (Frequently Asked Question) List. As a result I'd like help with the following things:

1. I've heard about stations currently showing TAT in DC and North Carolina, but that's it. If you live somewhere else that is currently showing TAT, please send in any info you have about the station's ID, what time, etc.
2. I need a good bio on what Dirk B. has been doing since TAT.
3. Any burning questions you might have about the Team that were never answered, send them in.

Hopefully something will be in decent shape in the next week or two and available for scrutiny on the web site.

Someone sent me the following email this week and I thought I would pass it along to anyone interested:
Date: Tue, 30 Apr 1996 01:51:02 -0500
From: Ken Elliott
Subject: Mr. T

I see Mr.T on the 700 Club all the time, he is a devout Christian on what I can gather. He helps the Ministry pass out food for the under privelaged families in the U.S. mostly in the ghettos and projects.
Last issue's queston was:
>Name (or give description of) episode where the following movies were
>(a) Flight of the Pheonix (ANS: HOLIDAY IN THE HILLS)
>(b) Bail out over Borneo (ANS: ONE MORE TIME)
...and the real hard one:
>(d) Bridge on the River Kwai (ANS: DIAMONDS 'N DUST)

(d) Was especially tricky as the scene where it was mentioned has been edited out of syndicated versions of the episode, so you had to have seen the original. However, since no one sent in even guesses on any of the questions, I suppose it was an especially tricky round.

This week's question:
In "Bad Time at the Border," who was the cockroach Murdock had in a matchbox supposed to be?

This is a really great one, albeit a little out of season... thanks to Laura Michaels for transcribing it!

Reprinted from On The Jazz #9 edited by Deborah Okoniewski

If Not For Christmas . . .
by Michele Lellouche

December 1977

Face sighed, staring at the wreck of their finances spread over the imitation wood table. Checkbook drawn to the limit and beyond, and a pile of cash. He could stare at the crumpled bills and tarnished change until his weary blue eyes completely gave out, but they would never add up to any more than $61.35. He shivered suddenly, blamed it on the air-conditioned cold of the mall. I hate being broke, he snarled to himself. He was beginning to really tire of the endless running and constant scraping to survive. He shook himself clear of that thought quickly, recognizing the opening notes of his usual Christmas depression arriving on schedule. Except this year, he had good reason. He raked up the money from the table, crumpled his coffee cup, and was about to get up and find the rest of the team when Murdock dropped into the chair across from his, elbows rocking the table. Face looked up, trying to meet Murdock's bright smile and failing.

"What's goin' down, Faceman?" the pilot asked guardedly.

"Us, if our upcoming deal falls through." Face picked up the crumpled cup and started worrying the edges. Murdock had never seen Face tearing at things unless the situation was deadly serious.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

Face looked up with a half-smile. "Murdock, we have about 62 dollars to our collective name."

"What about our savings? The Swiss stuff?"

"I've overdrawn every account I can get to; hell, I wrote bad checks to get us here. I move on any of the overseas accounts from here, Lynch'll be on us again." He turned swiftly and hardballed the cup into the trash can. The Faceman's smile was steel. "In a word, we are broke. Merry Christmas."

Murdock slumped back into his chair, tilting his baseball cap. Merry Christmas indeed; today was Christmas Eve. "Not gonna be one unless Hannibal gets that deal."

Face nodded, getting to his feet. "Where're B.A. and Hannibal?"

"Hannibal's down the mall on the phone. B.A. was right behind me."

"He's being awfully nice to you lately."

"He's too depressed to be angry with me. I mean, I called him a mudsucker three times this morning and he didn't even blink."

"You know why."

The pilot nodded, remembering yet another plan gone wrong, a run to Chicago for the holidays, cut short by Lynch. They had gone to ground to throw the general off. No chance to get to Chicago for the holidays, to get B.A. home for his first Christmas in ten years.

They found him sitting on a bench, watching the kids lining up to see Santa with an almost peaceful scowl. Murdock resumed his wild persona, leaping over the outstretched legs and doing a turn he had copied from John Travolta.

"Hey, B.A.!"

"Hi yourself, fool."

"B.A., you look blue," Face remarked, trying to get at least a snap.

"Well, you look beige." There was a snarl in it that relieved both Face and Murdock.

Face grinned, ready to tempt fate. "No sun in here, my tan's beginning to fade," he quipped, searching for Hannibal and checking his cigars. The colonel would be wanting one soon enough. Thankfully, it was one of the few supplies they were not low on. He spotted Smith coming towards them and tapped Murdock's shoulder. "Whaddya think?"

"He looks. . ." H.M. paused, searching for an adjective and Smith got into earshot.

"How's it going with you?" Face asked, offering a cigar.

Smith paused, lighting up, ignoring the looks of anticipation and desperation given him. "We're 95% on. One more call tonight should wrap it up."

Murdock did another patented turn from SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER (he'd already seen it five times); Face and B.A. simply whooshed in relief. Face relaxed a bit knowing they could spend the last of their monies if need be. Now, if they could only cheer B.A. up.

Their lunch was leisurely, but Face spent most of it brooding, trying to solve some of their problems. His immediate worry was B.A. The black sergeant had been looking forward to seeing his mother for Christmas and now their plans had fallen through so fast he had not even been able to send a card. He knew B.A.'s mood was part anger, part guilt and he was determined to lift it, but he was damned if he knew how.

Murdock was craning his head to see from the upper gallery down to Santa's chair, watching the kids wistfully. He finally turned from the scene. Face looked at him, puzzled.

"Santa's on lunch break," H.M. explained, then smiled impishly. "There's a cute elf down there, though."

Face looked himself, seeing a teenage girl in elf green shutting down the area and putting a camera away. Face watched her and suddenly an idea walked across his mind. With a grin, he interrupted the table's conversation, looking at B.A. "I know how you can let your mom know you're alright for Christmas."

Murdock and Hannibal looked perplexed but B.A.'s eyes were full of rare thanks.

"What have you got in mind?" Hannibal asked.

Face got to his feet. "C'mon, I'll show you."

Santa's Little Elf Tammi (she hated it -- it was very uncool) was tidying up the area when one of the best looking men she had ever seen walked up to her.

"How can I help you?" she asked brightly and was answered with a smile that took her breath away.

"How much does it cost to have a picture made?"

"$3.50, but you'll have to wait until Santa gets back," she trailed off, looking for children.

"No, I didn't need Santa, all I need is a picture made of the four of us," he indicated the three men behind him who smiled like choirboys, albeit the weirdest group of choirboys she had ever seen.


"See, we were going to get our friend home for Christmas and we couldn't make it, so we figured we'd send a picture, sort of like a card," he smiled again and Tammi immediately felt sorry for him.

"Listen, go ahead and get around Santa's chair and I'll take the picture for you."

The man's smile grew brighter if that were possible and he waved his friends over as Tammi began to set up her camera again.
                       *     *     *
Mrs. Baracus reached into her mail box, expecting the usual assortment of bills that always arrived the day after Christmas. She sighed, thumbing through the mail with no enthusiasm. She was worried about Scooter, she had been since he joined the Army really, but this Christmas it was more acute. He had called her, telling her he and his friends would be there for Christmas, then had called to say that they couldn't come. She had heard the tears in the gruff voice.

The last letter was larger than the rest, one of those bulky envelopes people used to mail fragile things. She saw the handwriting of the address and smiled in relief; it was Scooter's. She hurried back to her apartment to open it.

She pulled out a photo/card tied with red and green ribbon. She remembered getting one every year when she took B.A. to talk to Santa, but it had been many years since she had seen one.
She undid the ribbon and she could see the picture clearly. B.A. sat in Santa's chair with a Santa hat balanced on his head. Hannibal Smith, cigar in teeth, stood behind the chair; Face and Murdock leaned on either side, the pilot's baseball cap traded in for an elf hat. All four of them were smiling into the camera under a cloud of confetti snow. The caption identified the photo as taken at a mall in Fort Worth, Texas. She turned it over and read B.A.'s scrawl on the back:

"Don't worry, Mama, I'm not alone for Christmas."

She smiled, choking back the tears as she set the card in front of the rest of her Christmas cards, knowing she would keep this one for a long time.
That's all for now, everyone. Until next time, stay on the jazz!

Quote of the Week:
"Now you see, this is why you don't have as many visitors
as the terrorists up the street do."

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