Okay, that may have been a bit dramatic.
What I meant to say is that streaming TV is evil and everyone should stop doing it right now.
Fine. What I mean is, that streaming TV is making me sad and I wish people weren’t so into it.
I’m not saying that I have never watched 2 entire seasons of Homeland, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul or Curb Your Enthusiasm in a row, of my own free will.
I am not saying that I have never caught myself squinting out of eyeballs that felt as though they were being dried out by a blowtorch, but still hung in there, blinking, rubbing, taking my glasses off, putting them on, taking them off, putting them on, like a trooper, for just 2 more episodes, while mindlessly alternating bowls of spaghetti and tubs of Coconut Bliss, shovelling either/or into my face like an excavator, to distract me from the relentless pain of viewer fatigue induced eye strain.
The last time I had the flu, I probably watched 6 consecutive episodes of the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (taking breaks only to rest my eyes long enough to imagine myself living in my very own New York City brownstone basement), 8 episodes of Comedians in Cars Drinking Coffee (breaking only long enough to quickly peruse the iChing web menu and call for soup), and at least 4 episodes of Peaky Blinders (breaking only long enough to do what any non-self-respecting estrous mammal watching that show would seek a private corner to do), before succumbing to severe symptoms of digital motion sickness.
So I’m not saying I’ve never streamed television shows, or liked it, or forced myself to do it no matter how dizzy or nauseous it made me feel.
But I am saying this:
I miss weekly TV!!
Don’t get angry! Hear me out!
Remember (if you were born before 1990) when TV shows were only on once a week, and you didn’t make plans that night because it was Desperate Housewives/The Sopranos/The L Word/The Real L word night?
Did any of you used to make a night of it? Plan your food, invite friends over maybe even?
The last show I remember doing that with was True Blood . There was an open invitation to all my friends to my living room every Sunday night. I’d cover the mirrors, hang the plasma bag wreathe on the door (so gross – so gross but I wrote it even though I never actually did it, wow that’s gross) and hide all the pointy steak-like objects. I’d serve Vampire and or Louisiana inspired snacks and beverages for all.
I looked forward to that night every week, with great expectation.
I miss that. I miss the gathering, the snacks, the covering of the mirrors…
And the call from across the house, of ravenous waifs weeping into the stocked but untouchable refrigerator…
“Mom… is there ANYTHING in the fridge that we ARE allowed to eat?”