Episode 616

Yet another blow-softener (do I even need to say it?) for Steve Carell's departure from prime time. The man himself was on Ellen this week (as was amazingly-east-coast-pride-filled John Krasinski), and she asked him if - having completed filming on The Office and Crazy, Stupid, Love - he is good at not having anything to do.  He responded:

"I am so great at not having anything to do.  I think I am an intrinsically, extremely lazy person.  And an entire day will go by and I will have done nothing but drive my kids to school, pick them up, have a cup of coffee, read the paper, and go to bed.  And that's it.  That's like...I have nothing to show for a day.  I love it.  I think I am just a lazy, lazy person at heart."

Most celebrities - and while we're at it, most human beings - love to flaunt how busy they are, no matter what absurdity the busyness consists of (how do you have time to be reading this blog, anyway?)  But as someone who often has nothing to show for a day, and loves it, I truly appreciate the sincerity of this phenomenal man. 

But I can't end this entry without giving credit to Ellen herself for another, almost-as-brilliant comment: "TV is the most important thing in the whole wide world.  Well...it's more important than reading and less important than money."  And she's completely unbiased.

Episode 615

There were only two things that could have softened the blow of Steve Carell leaving The Office: an absolutely perfect final episode or a huge "PSYCH!" displayed, Chuck Lorre-style, at the end of the hour.  I might have preferred the latter, given my embarrassingly tear-filled reaction to his departure, but I'll take what I can get - and they nailed it (that's what she said).  I feel like I'll somehow taint it if I try to dissect why it was so beautifully done, but it was absolutely a reward to those of us who followed Michael, for better or worse, through seven hilarious years.  And the fact that the episode was titled "Goodbye, Michael" reminded us perfectly of Michael at his "Goodbye, Toby" best.

With Steve Carell gone, and rumors that Alec Baldwin is next, I can only thank the NBC gods that Nick Offerman (Parks and Recreation's Ron Swanson) is going strong.  As brilliant as Aziz Ansari was on last week's episode - making it one of the most consistently funny half-hours in recent TV history - Nick Offerman once again stole the show this week, despite his limited screen-time.  The only way his speech at the art show could have been better is if Michael Scott had been waiting for him afterward at the bar, somehow proud of his own accomplishment.

Episode 614

It had been about two years since I'd watched an episode of Dawson's Creek, and the other day I decided to give it another go: a walk down memory lane, some face time with my old friend Pacey.  Well, I'm not sure if the transition from early- to mid-twenties gave me a few extra brain cells, but wow, what a terrible show.  Don't get me wrong, it will always be in my heart, and I will never stop relating my personal experiences to it and making everyone around me do the same, but I might not be breaking out those DVDs again until I'm sure that pure nostalgia will carry me through.

The friend who inadvertently got me hooked on Dawson's Creek (by rolling her eyes as I cried my heart out during Jen's dying monologue in the series finale, the first episode I'd ever seen) just pointed me to this: a list of TV shows that could have been a lot better, if only... I agree with 100% of them (as long as Marshall gets to stick around as Barney's sidekick on How I Met Your Mother 2.0), but since there are only 19, I thought I'd round it out with my own #20: Dawson's Creek would have been better if every time Katie Holmes or James Van Der Beek said anything, everyone responded in unison: "No one cares."  And while we're at it, perhaps we can discover why Jen's American grandma had a British accent.

Episode 613

A famous study, initiated at Bing Nursery School, tested children's capacities for delayed gratification.  They were given a marshmallow and told that they could either eat it right away, or, if they waited a certain amount of time, they would be given two marshmallows (basically a gold mine for a 3-year-old).  After following up with the participants decades later, researchers noticed that those who had waited for the second marshmallow had higher SAT scores and were generally described as more competent.  So: wait for the second one and not only do you get two marshmallows, but you apparently get life-long success.  You can see a rather hilarious repetition of the experiment here.

Television has recently decided to conduct this experiment on the American public.  NBC will be airing the final season of Friday Night Lights beginning next Friday, but because it was already aired on DirecTV, the DVDs were released last week.  This gave us all the option: buy the DVDs and watch them all at once for immediate but short-lived joy, or wait for them to air week by week, thus delaying (and extending) gratification.

In case you were wondering, I ate the marshmallow.  And it was absolutely worth a future of incompetence and failure.

Episode 612

On a recent version of the SAT, there was an essay question about the implications and impact of Reality TV on American society.  Ten years too late, SAT board - if I'd had that prompt, maybe I could have gotten into an Ivy, or (gasp!) Stanford.

Students have inevitably taken up arms against the question. I completely agree with their complaints: someone who watches Reality TV will have a much easier time responding.  A student knowledgeable about the genre could provide, or at least have in mind, specific examples that would support their argument or even help them form a convincing response.  (For instance, they could mention how awful it is that the cover of this week's People Magazine features Brad and Emily's rocky engagement while confining the tragedy in Japan to the sidebar, just above the discussion of Kate Middleton's bikini body).  So yes, the question is unfair. 

But too freakin' bad. 

Reality TV does have an impact on our society, for better or worse, and as informed citizens, high school students should be able to discuss it.  Not that they shouldn't also be informed about politics and the global economy (etc. etc. etc.) but that doesn't preclude an an awareness of television culture.  In fact, pop culture is the easiest of any "subject" to learn - it's the most accessible (literally and intellectually) and takes the fewest brain cells to process (though probably kills the most).  I'm not suggesting that sixteen-year-olds should be forced to watch Jersey Shore and America's Next Top Model, or that they need to know that first-ever Survivor winner, Richard Hatch, is back for another stint in prison.  But they should absolutely be able to form a clear argument about one of the most important American cultural phenomena.

And really, now that the SAT is out of 2400, no one over the age of 18 really knows what your score means anyway.

Episode 611

Jury duty is second only to filing taxes on the list of Things Americans Hate to Do.  I'm here to change that.  Having spent the past two days at jury duty, I can say with confidence that it is one of the most entertaining things I have ever done (take that as you will).  Why write about it here?  Because I would like to propose that it becomes a new TV show: a spin-off of The Office and Parks and Recreation that documents the jury selection process in a suburban courthouse.

I don't know quite how to describe the absurdity that ensued (although everyone knows a version of it), so instead, I'll just list off a few things I learned - or that I knew, but were confirmed for me - observing the process.

1) All Americans are either pretentious, crazy, or stupid (or some combination of the three): I knew it would all be downhill when so many people couldn't follow instructions that the administrative assistant had to lecture a room full of functioning adults on how to fill out a form.

2) As a general rule, people are not good liars, especially when it comes to pretending to be prejudiced (which is surprising, given that most of us are, in fact, quite prejudiced).

3) People who like to schmooze should not be allowed to be judges: I could elaborate, but let's just say this Phil Dunphy of a character referred to every female in the room - ages 18 to 80 - as "young lady."

4) Conciseness is not a strong suit of most Americans.  If you're going to BS your way out of serving, please do it immediately, and save everyone else the time. A fifteen-minute story about how you were pulled over by a police officer 23 years ago and how the experience has tainted your view of traffic violations really isn't in anyone's best interest. I have never thought the words "TMI" more in my life.

5) The sixth amendment should be further amended: in addition to "the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury," the defendant should have "the right to a private room and a television to watch all six seasons of LOST (or the equivalent) while the jury selection process is taking place."  As if being on trial isn't enough.

In this new show (which will air in Two and Half Men's old time slot), the judge, clerk, bailiff, recorder, and attorneys would be recurring characters, while the defendant and potential jurors would change each time (but of course there would be the Dwight Schrute of the group who came un-summoned to every selection - with the hopes of being seated - just to be a good citizen).

Basically, Jury Duty will be like The Office, but with no windows and the risk of perjury.

Episode 610

I assume Mel Gibson is sending Charlie Sheen some great, big thank-you flowers right about now.  Charlie Sheen has created a mockery of himself more than I - or anyone else - could possibly do, so it's not really even worth trying to be witty about it.  Lucky for me, someecards has already taken care of that and has captured, in seventeen distinct one-liners, how much America hates the beast and more importantly, Two and a Half Men.

Because Charlie Sheen has given TV a bad name, I want to propose an antidote: seven-year-old Riley Chandler.  These four minutes and seven seconds redeem television (and humanity) from every ill He Who Shall Continue to Be Named (on Every News Outlet in America) has ever committed.  This is almost better than baby pandas cuddling with their moms.