Carson called me to ask if I wanted to come over and watch the Simpsons. That classic Sunday night spread:
The Simpsons,
Malcolm in the Middle, the season finale of
X-Files. At first it seemed like something fun to do, but I had forgotten that I hadn't watched TV in months. Neither of us have.
(Me) How did the thing put into Dana's neck make her pregnant?
(Him) I don't know
Why do those alien whatever people want the baby?
I don't know.
Why don't Mulder and that guy who replaced him on the show know where she is? And why is Mulder even on this episode? I thought...
(Sigh) I don't know. I haven't watched TV in a long time either.
Well, why are we watching it then, if we have no way of knowing what the hell is going on? That's the catch with TV programs. They're built so that you have to keep coming back for more, at the show slot's convenience. TV shows aren't made to allow for those few of us who aren't glued to the screen on a daily or weekly basis.
Because I'm not following TV programs, it also seems that I am out of the loop on what is considered humorous. While doing laundry last week, I caught what I think was a re-run of the show Friends, where two of the characters were marrying one another, prior to which many hijinks ensued. While watching it, I wondered to myself if this show was supposed to relate to me in my life or if it was merely to distract me with its scripted humor and amusing but light slapstick comedy. I'm assuming the latter, since the former would require a little too much work for syndicated shows.
Inside me there swims a perilous debate. Should TV shows be constants that I can return to at my leisure and feel included updated, or is there a system built into said shows that requires you to come back into their realm regularly enough to enjoy them at all?
Regardless, I don't feel like I'm missing out on much.