I’ve never met someone so into sitcoms.”
This wasn’t the first time someone pointed out my fondness for television in general. But it was the first time someone made it seem like a bad thing. I’ve always considered my ability to recite the words to the “Golden Girls” and “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” theme songs as much a part of me as my double-jointed elbows – quirky, but nothing to be ashamed of. And why should I be?
Sitcoms don’t get in the way of homework – at least no more than Facebook or Pinterest or pleasure reading or napping. I spend plenty of time reading, so any rotting my brain experiences as a result of television is counteracted by the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald and Harper Lee. And it could be worse. I could be watching the train wreck they call “Jersey Shore.”
I’m using an addict’s justification, aren’t I?
But according to The Hollywood Reporter, more people watched the Little Ricky birth episode of “I Love Lucy” than watched the inauguration of President Dwight Eisenhower the very next day – 44 million viewers versus 29 million. So a mildly fanatical appreciation for sitcoms isn’t reserved to me or my generation. Everybody has an “obsession.”
Hanging out with my one friend occasionally feels like flipping through the latest issue of Vogue. She could ramble about infinity scarves and Tory Burch boots for hours. I thought Lilly Pulitzer was a distant relative of Joseph before we met. She always knows what fragrance I’m wearing, sometimes when I’m not even sure.
I don’t mind though. I accept that she’ll forever confuse the butlers on “The Nanny” and “Fresh Prince,” and she accepts that I’ll never be able to spot a knockoff handbag. Admittedly her skills are handier, especially when it comes time to shell out for a nice new wardrobe. My knowledge is only useful to her should we wind up as a team on a game show.
Some people care too much about sports or comic books or Justin Bieber. For me, it’s sitcoms.
To quote Steve Jobs: “I think it’s brought the world a lot closer together, and will continue to do that. There are downsides to everything; there are unintended consequences to everything. The most corrosive piece of technology that I’ve ever seen is called television – but then, again, television, at its best, is magnificent.”
One could argue that the shows I love, sitcoms included, are hardly “television at its best.” Regardless, if heaven really is for real, mine will include a giant TV, microsuede sectional and never-ending “Frasier” marathons. And Bob Saget will narrate.
