We rarely watch TV shows anymore. The things we used to watch are mostly gone, and we haven’t been hooked by or just haven’t gotten around to trying most of the shows that people say are good now.
Our last dedicated viewing moment was 24, which we abandoned early this season after the twin offenses of a farcical (even within the show’s credulity-straining format), potentially shark-jumping nuclear blast in LA and, worse, the creepy, skin-crawly profile of the show’s creator in the New Yorker. It takes all the fun out of doing something if if you imagine Dick Cheney being happy about it.
So now Studio 60, another show I’ve mostly liked a lot, is getting cut. I’ve got some thoughts on it, but I won’t bore you with them unless you happen to have been watching the show. (Apparently there are about ten of us nationwide; hence the axe.)
Two final notes of TV. One, we watched Lonesome Dove with the kids last week, and I was surprised how much was still familiar after all these years. There are definitely advantages to having your kids get tall and busy. Also, the funniest show on television by far (or at least as far as I know) is My Family, a BBC import that plays on Saturdays on PBS.
