free at last

TV is my friend. I'm not ashamed to admit it.

We all love TV in some way, though some of us only love to hate it. Personally, I embrace the kitsch. I like to think of my time spent in front of the tube as some sort of sociology project. After all, anthropologists from the faraway future would be fascinated with this window into our culture. Would they notice, as I have, that people on sit coms seldom ever close the front door? Would they question why Lucy and Desi couldn't share a bed but Fred and Wilma could? Would they wonder where the Brady kids relieved themselves, since their bathroom lacked a toilet?

TV has shaped me, though not always in the best ways. Physically I'm a little bit softer, mentally I'm a tad shallower, but honestly I think I'd be worse off without it. TV connected me to others in my generation. Strangers in adolescence, we now identify each other with catch phrases and obscure character references. We know that it's never to late if you care enough. We love it when a plan comes together. And we're certain that knowing is half the battle. We wonder where's the beef? And our bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R... We live for the day we get to ask a guy in a Rolls if he has any Grey Poupon. We feel for the woman who has fallen and can't get up. And we learned it from watching you, Dad, we learned it from watching you. And, I may be alone in this, but I think it's ironic how much more delicious my brain looks on drugs. In any case, you wouldn't like us when we're angry. We might just call on the power of Grayskull...

Like any friend, TV has occasionally disappointed me. Ted Turner still owes me twenty dollars for the time I sat through that horrible action adventure movie that I believe starred Judd Nelson. I kept thinking, "surely this will get better" as it grew increasingly worse. I remember deciding that the Turner Network Television station ought to reimburse me for my suffering. I calculated my damages based upon my hourly wage ($13) and the time spent rooting for Judd (90 minutes). I mean, seriously, whoever decided this movie was worthy of air time should be fired.

And TV has stood me up. How many times have I fallen for a new show only to have it abandon me mid season? Sometimes I see the writing on the wall. Reunion clearly was going nowhere fast. That cancellation was a mercy killing. Other times I'm dumbfounded. Smith was really, really good. I'm still hoping someone will pick it up.

More often, TV has stood by me. I remember the time I told Erik that Oprah was my friend. He immediately began mocking my delusions of grandeur. Mere moments later, in her opening monologue, Oprah vindicated me. She addressed the audience (including those at home) and proclaimed us all her friends. And who has been more loyal to me than my lifelong pal, Bob Barker? What would a sore throat be without the opportunity to bid on fabulous prizes? It just isn't any fun to vomit if you don't get to watch a Showcase Showdown...

Today, TV has freed me. Tonight I spent the last hour ever with my friends from the O.C. I no longer need to hide this guilty pleasure. I no longer need to wonder if people with think I named my pet after a washed up teen drama. I have one less show to juggle on Thursday nights, one less Season Pass to manage on my Tivo. Free at last. Why, you ask, didn't I free myself sooner? After all, even Mischa Barton jumped ship. You know, it's just the kind of friend I am. Loyal to the bitter end. Why did I get hooked in the first place? That's a better question. For this I thank blame my brother. He sucked me in when he lived here, convincing me the show was at least worthwhile as a target for our ridicule. And so it was. But beneath our disdain grew dedication.

As I delight in this feeling of lightness I have, freed of the chains I placed on myself, I must admit I wonder if I watch a wee bit too much TV. I have never calculated my screen time because honestly I don't want to know. I'm sure I'd be appalled. I've thought about cutting back, for sure. Especially after Ozzy didn't win last season's Survivor. I was so miffed, I thought about walking away. And you know how I felt about Lost leaving me hanging for so long. It took me a couple weeks to decide to wade back into that water. Now, of course, I'm as hooked as ever. Go Charlie Cancer, go. In the end, though, I don't see the harm in two old friends spending time together. Surely the damage is already done. I'm desensitized to violence, I have the attention span of a gnat. What good would leaving do me now?

And so I thank you tonight, Television, thank you for being a friend. We've traveled down the road and back again. Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant.