…in the title would drive up page views as well. But that would be unethical.
I also draw the line at “Jersey Shore.” Everyone should.
So, apparently there’s a plethora of incredible shows currently on the air. Despite all of that, I have my own line-up. (Or ‘My Programmes,’ as they are referred to in our house.)
I don’t know how this happened. I’ve always loved TV, sure, but I’ve never had a weekly schedule. Other than TV Guide. But I’m assuming everyone has access to that.
When we were little, we had shows we’d watch here and there (Sesame Street, random stuff on Nickelodeon- WELL before the days of “Nick Jr.” Even before ‘SNICK.’ Tell me you remember ‘SNICK.’) Later on we had Kids Incorporated (you know, at the ‘Place?’ ‘Cause the ‘a’ had burned out of ‘Palace?’ Clever) and The New Mickey Mouse Club a.k.a. MMC (I had my letter read on the air, no big deal, just kinda made me a minor local celebrity. The letter was about liverwurst. I won a tee shirt) and anything, anything that’s a Disney Sunday movie. But I’m fairly certain that, had I told my mother I had a show for every night of week, this would not have flown. (Does that phrase still hold power when used in the past tense? ‘This will not fly.’ ‘Will not have flown.’ No, I guess not. Sorry.)
And I don’t even know how this happened. Apart from certain obvious television series that will alwaysalwaysalways be allowed to play on my screen (Quantum Leap, Law & Order– any of them- I know some of you have a problem with Vincent D’Onofrio’s rather autistic Detective Goren, but I find him simply brilliant) I’ve never really had weekly “shows” that “aired.” I have the misfortune of being the kiss of death for any series I truly love. The latest casualty is Pushing Daisies. No. I cannot discuss it. It is too soon.
SO.
Here is my line-up.
Monday- Men Of a Certain Age. Sure, I’m not their “target demographic.” I’m neither male nor of a specific age range. No matter. Scott Bakula plays a studmuffin in this one, and as we all know, I’d tune in to watch him file his taxes.
Tuesday- Lost. Okay, technically, I don’t watch this one. In fact, I kinda hate it. HOWEVER. P.J. is obsessed with it, which cuts into my after-work Ghost Whisperer reruns. It deserves a mention. (And before everyone starts harping about the brilliance, the Others, the disappearing island, the morphing character faces and panicked females gasping “Jack!”- I’ve seen enough promos- I’m just going to go ahead and say there was never any chance of me liking this one. I have a Lord of the Flies phobia. A big one. And sure, it’s not the same thing AT ALL, but it’s an island after a plane crash. Close. Enough.)
Wednesday- Psych. I may be the only person watching this one! Doesn’t matter in the least! A psychic detective agency with exceptional banter and incredibly witty references? This show is my reward for Wednesdays being Wednesdays.
Thursday- The Office. AND- Important Things with Demetri Martin. That’s right, a full hour of TV on Thursdays. Or, rather, a half hour followed by a snack followed by a half hour. As most of you know, I became a wee bit too obsessed with Jim & Pam and Dwight& the beet farm while Nora was brand new and eating every 12 minutes. I’m pretty sure she still has a Pavlovian response whenever she hears the opening theme. She may be sick of The Office by now. (“False.”) And Demetri Martin? Waaay back in February, about a month before Nora was even a glimmer on the horizon, I watched this show. And one sickly afternoon, fevered outta my gourd and praying for the plague to end, I fell asleep while viewing this show On Demand. The wacky dream and hallucinations that ensued not only starred Demetri Martin, but guaranteed that I would develop a near-psychotic loyalty to his show. (And I’m pretty sure we’re dating in a dream universe somewhere.)
Friday- Ghost Whisperer and The Soup. Fear not, there’s an hour in between in which to care for the baby. I found the first on accident one Friday night (you mean they make new ones, too?) and the second has been a long-standing Date Night show for Peej and I. We do not WATCH any of the reality TV skewered by The Soup. This does not affect our viewing in the least. If nothing else, it’s given us inside jokes about a show that makes fun of actual shows. Post-post-modernity? We giggle.
Saturday…is movie night. Sorry. (We used to go out, really we did. But these days, having to justify a sitter, the transit, the meal, the drinks- God, were drinks always eighty bucks at “nice” places?- and the utter, bone-crushing exhaustion the next morning…well, ‘Nick & Nora‘ is always free. And P.J. makes the best popcorn in town.)
And Sunday? Well, everything we do on Sunday is merely a placeholder for the return of True Blood. June? Seriously?
But by then it’ll be nice outside and perhaps we’ll have finished the backyard and the patio area. I can just see it now: the flowering pear tree in bloom, the strawberries popping up along the faded brick, Nora and I playing on a blanket and P.J. flipping burgers on the grill…
…Our laptops logged into Netflix’s Watch Instantly queue…
***
Confidential to CSG: Happy 2nd birthday to my favorite blond nephew! You can watch any show you want today- tell your Mom I said so.
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