My wife and I have had a steady stream of bad luck luck lately when it comes to latching onto new TV shows. As soon as we decide that we really enjoy enjoy a show, the network up and decides to can it. While reality show after reality show continues to flourish and spin-off, we are left hoping that the episode we're watching of one our favorite non-reality programs isn't its last.
Over the past couple years we have tuned in weekly to watch the untimely demise of such quality shows as Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Life on Mars, My Own Worst Enemy, Eli Stone, The Unusuals, and Pushing Daisies (although that last one was more a favorite of the wife's, but I would tune in every now and then). It seems what all these shows had in common was that they were a little different from other shows on TV- quirky, with interesting characters, and bold, if not off-beat storylines and plots. Heaven forbid we get a little variation from the norm! It doesn't say much for those making the decisions at the networks these days, or for that matter the audiences making the decisions of what to spend their time watching. It's a rather narrow spectrum, I fear, that both groups seem to dwell in.
I realize it's all about the money. These shows didn't test well, or what have you- and got yanked because of it. It's just too expensive to keep shows on, with the hope that that just may catch on and gain a following eventually. And some of these shows that stay on for four and five seasons... I just have to scratch my head. Are people really watching this, or is it just that cheap of a show to keep churning out episodes? Perhaps I'm just a snob... Perhaps I can live with that.
As crappy as it is to see these shows go by the wayside, perhaps I should thank these network bigs. After all, the DVR still winds up full most every week with enough shows for my wife and I to barely keep up with. I still hold out hope for quality TV, but in the meanwhile will hunker down with the tried and true staples... and let's not forget syndication. There will always be re-runs! What better way to enjoy the present state of television, than by reliving its glorious past. It might just be better than looking to future.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Who's sorry now?
It happens.
You're at the store, you bang into someone with the cart, or maybe run over their feet. Or you're in a crowd and you step on someone's heel, or bump into someone walking the opposite direction. In New York, it's pretty unavoidable- and sometimes it's your fault.
When it's my fault, my first instinct is of course to apologize. I mean, 99.9% of the time it's not on purpose, so why wouldn't I be sorry? And in that moment I truly am sorry for the bump, bash, step or whatever transgression has passed between us. However, it is the moment that follows that decides how deep my contrition runs.
For instance, last night at the grocery store, trying to squeeze through a tight area, I accidentally clipped a woman's heel with the shopping cart wheel (I won't even mention she and her companion were taking up more space than they needed to, I won't - because I am that good of a person). I immediately said, "Oh I'm sorry!" To which her response was a sideways glance, and "Geeez!" To which I mumble, under-my-breath-but-loud-enough-for-her-to-hear, "I said I was sorry," at which point I no longer am. And then what I want to say is: Just accept my apology lady and get over it... don't tell tell me YOU'VE never done anything like that!! But I don't- remember what a good person I am?
So, how sorry am I if my sincerity involves the other party's acceptance of my apology? Shouldn't I just be sorry independent of their reaction? Maybe... in a perfect world. Last time I checked, that's not the one we live in, though. So get over it people- it's happened before, it'll happen again. And if you don't like that attitude, well SOOORRRYYY... And I mean it.
You're at the store, you bang into someone with the cart, or maybe run over their feet. Or you're in a crowd and you step on someone's heel, or bump into someone walking the opposite direction. In New York, it's pretty unavoidable- and sometimes it's your fault.
When it's my fault, my first instinct is of course to apologize. I mean, 99.9% of the time it's not on purpose, so why wouldn't I be sorry? And in that moment I truly am sorry for the bump, bash, step or whatever transgression has passed between us. However, it is the moment that follows that decides how deep my contrition runs.
For instance, last night at the grocery store, trying to squeeze through a tight area, I accidentally clipped a woman's heel with the shopping cart wheel (I won't even mention she and her companion were taking up more space than they needed to, I won't - because I am that good of a person). I immediately said, "Oh I'm sorry!" To which her response was a sideways glance, and "Geeez!" To which I mumble, under-my-breath-but-loud-enough-for-her-to-hear, "I said I was sorry," at which point I no longer am. And then what I want to say is: Just accept my apology lady and get over it... don't tell tell me YOU'VE never done anything like that!! But I don't- remember what a good person I am?
So, how sorry am I if my sincerity involves the other party's acceptance of my apology? Shouldn't I just be sorry independent of their reaction? Maybe... in a perfect world. Last time I checked, that's not the one we live in, though. So get over it people- it's happened before, it'll happen again. And if you don't like that attitude, well SOOORRRYYY... And I mean it.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Tag! You are...?
Just about a year ago, I wrote in this blog how I had joined the throng and signed up on Facebook. Well after the all-encompassing preoccupation and obsession died down it has become a fun thing to check here and there, and a great way to reconnect with all the people I always wanted to... and some I forgot I knew. But that's not the point here...
People post pictures on facebook, and there's a feature where you can "tag" people in the photos- meaning you zero in on their face say this is this person, this is that person, and so on. So when you are flipping trough your friends photos, you can roll over people with your mouse and, if they have been tagged, it pops up their name. Nifty.
Well, I realize that now when I am on some other website, i.e. not facebook, and looking at photos I sometimes will roll over a person in the picture hoping to find out who they are... but alas, the NY Times and CNN and the like don't tag people in their photos. Yes sometimes there are captions, but they don't always tell the whole story- Who's that guy behind Obama.. not quite in focus, but he looks so darn familiar, I know he's somebody...? If he was tagged, we'd know.
I like the tag. That's all I'm saying.
People post pictures on facebook, and there's a feature where you can "tag" people in the photos- meaning you zero in on their face say this is this person, this is that person, and so on. So when you are flipping trough your friends photos, you can roll over people with your mouse and, if they have been tagged, it pops up their name. Nifty.
Well, I realize that now when I am on some other website, i.e. not facebook, and looking at photos I sometimes will roll over a person in the picture hoping to find out who they are... but alas, the NY Times and CNN and the like don't tag people in their photos. Yes sometimes there are captions, but they don't always tell the whole story- Who's that guy behind Obama.. not quite in focus, but he looks so darn familiar, I know he's somebody...? If he was tagged, we'd know.
I like the tag. That's all I'm saying.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Angst in the morning...
Yesterday was one of those lovely New York mornings. Huffing through the rain, only to get down to the subway platform and find it packed with people; a tell-tale sign that it has been a loooong time since a train has graced this station with its presence.
At last a train comes.. full of people, so that only a few of the more pushy commuters make their way onto the already crowded train (I live only few stops from the beginning of the line, so if it's already ridiculously crowded on the train at my stop- it only gets uglier- and let's face it stuffier and smellier- as the train ambles downtown). The next train pulls into the station: blaring its horn, another tell-tale sign for regular subway riders that this train will not be be stopping at this station. Finally another train rolls in, and I manage to get on this one- packed in with a bunch of my closest, damp and impatient friends.
We make our way downtown. And is the case on a crowded train, it takes a little more time in each station, as people crammed on the train try to squeeze out, and those in the station try and shoe-horn their way onto the train. At which point the conductor comes over the loudspeaker and announces, "Please do not hold those doors open. This train is behind schedule- 15 minutes behind schedule and we need to keep moving." Pardon me while I double over in laughter.
Two problems with the conductor's announcement. 1. Not our fault the train is late. It is only this crowded because the train is late, and did I mention that's not the passengers' fault? 2. There's a schedule!!?? Anybody who rides the subway on a regular basis has to find that statement laughable at best- and completely ridiculous at worst. What's that "schedule" look like? Okay, one train at 9:05, the next one at 9:07, followed by the 9:23, then the 9:32 and 9:58 trains. Please.
Don't BS us. The MTA keeps raising the fares, the least they can do is tell their employees to be straight-shooters with the commuters. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your conductor speaking. Sorry this train is late and the air conditioning's not on not despite the 83% humidity. We have no idea why we've been delayed, but it's our bad. We also apologize for the stinky fat dude next you- we've told him countless times to wear deodorant. I would say we should be moving shortly, but that would be a lie- since I have no idea when we'll be moving. Thank you and have a pleasant day."
At last a train comes.. full of people, so that only a few of the more pushy commuters make their way onto the already crowded train (I live only few stops from the beginning of the line, so if it's already ridiculously crowded on the train at my stop- it only gets uglier- and let's face it stuffier and smellier- as the train ambles downtown). The next train pulls into the station: blaring its horn, another tell-tale sign for regular subway riders that this train will not be be stopping at this station. Finally another train rolls in, and I manage to get on this one- packed in with a bunch of my closest, damp and impatient friends.
We make our way downtown. And is the case on a crowded train, it takes a little more time in each station, as people crammed on the train try to squeeze out, and those in the station try and shoe-horn their way onto the train. At which point the conductor comes over the loudspeaker and announces, "Please do not hold those doors open. This train is behind schedule- 15 minutes behind schedule and we need to keep moving." Pardon me while I double over in laughter.
Two problems with the conductor's announcement. 1. Not our fault the train is late. It is only this crowded because the train is late, and did I mention that's not the passengers' fault? 2. There's a schedule!!?? Anybody who rides the subway on a regular basis has to find that statement laughable at best- and completely ridiculous at worst. What's that "schedule" look like? Okay, one train at 9:05, the next one at 9:07, followed by the 9:23, then the 9:32 and 9:58 trains. Please.
Don't BS us. The MTA keeps raising the fares, the least they can do is tell their employees to be straight-shooters with the commuters. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your conductor speaking. Sorry this train is late and the air conditioning's not on not despite the 83% humidity. We have no idea why we've been delayed, but it's our bad. We also apologize for the stinky fat dude next you- we've told him countless times to wear deodorant. I would say we should be moving shortly, but that would be a lie- since I have no idea when we'll be moving. Thank you and have a pleasant day."
Swimming in the rain...
As the official beginning of summer approaches, let me put down my umbrella for sec and say something.
I don't want to hear a damn thing about drought conditions this summer. It seems like almost every year, as summer descends upon us, articles and news reports start popping up about how we have a rain deficit- or that we are heading for drought warnings and need to conserve water. Hey I am all for conservation- but don't say the word drought to me. Those of us that have been practically swimming (see also: hyperbole) to work and around the city the past month don't appreciate or believe it. And yes, I am speaking for everyone.
That's all. Pull on your rain boots and slickers and go back to what you were doing (perhaps it was building an ark?).
I don't want to hear a damn thing about drought conditions this summer. It seems like almost every year, as summer descends upon us, articles and news reports start popping up about how we have a rain deficit- or that we are heading for drought warnings and need to conserve water. Hey I am all for conservation- but don't say the word drought to me. Those of us that have been practically swimming (see also: hyperbole) to work and around the city the past month don't appreciate or believe it. And yes, I am speaking for everyone.
That's all. Pull on your rain boots and slickers and go back to what you were doing (perhaps it was building an ark?).
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Your laundry is NOT my laundry
Common decency... that's what it comes down to.
Doing laundry in New York City, for those of us certain tax brackets, is a communal experience. There's only a certain amount of washers and dryers to go around for ten million people. My wife and I are lucky in that we have decent laundry facilities in the basement of our building. There are four washers and two dryers for about sixty apartments, so it's tight- but it works.
Most of the time.
Which brings me to this question- How hard is it to remember what time you put your laundry in, so as to remember what time you need to go down to retrieve said laundry when it is finished? For some, it seems the answer is: Very hard. Example: Last night we were doing laundry, which my wife started before I got home. While we were putting our last load in the dryer, I noticed a pile of still-wet laundry sitting on the folding counter. "I took those out," my wife informed me, when she had put our stuff in the wash originally. And there it sat, while our next batch of clothes came out of the dryer- and who knows, it could have still been there in the morning.
Now, I don't want to have to handle other people's laundry- but I will (as will my wife, obviously). If your clothes are in my way of getting this pain-in-the-butt chore done, they will be moved. Respectfully, of course- I'm not going to throw them on the floor- but they will be moved. My allotted laundry time does not take into account your laziness. I repeat- I don't want to handle your laundry... and I shouldn't have to, either. Or would you like me to fluff and fold too??
Set an alarm. Or just look at a clock, and do the math. Understand that there are precious few facilities, and we all need a turn. Or were you absent the day in kindergarten they taught how to share? Or how about the day they taught how to tell time, at least? Missed that one too, huh?
Now, I am not unreasonable- if you are five minutes late in getting your laundry out- I am not gonna throw up a fuss. But when your wet laundry is still there after I have taken it out, and done four loads of my own? Give me a break, people. You're not the only person on the planet, stop acting like it.
Doing laundry in New York City, for those of us certain tax brackets, is a communal experience. There's only a certain amount of washers and dryers to go around for ten million people. My wife and I are lucky in that we have decent laundry facilities in the basement of our building. There are four washers and two dryers for about sixty apartments, so it's tight- but it works.
Most of the time.
Which brings me to this question- How hard is it to remember what time you put your laundry in, so as to remember what time you need to go down to retrieve said laundry when it is finished? For some, it seems the answer is: Very hard. Example: Last night we were doing laundry, which my wife started before I got home. While we were putting our last load in the dryer, I noticed a pile of still-wet laundry sitting on the folding counter. "I took those out," my wife informed me, when she had put our stuff in the wash originally. And there it sat, while our next batch of clothes came out of the dryer- and who knows, it could have still been there in the morning.
Now, I don't want to have to handle other people's laundry- but I will (as will my wife, obviously). If your clothes are in my way of getting this pain-in-the-butt chore done, they will be moved. Respectfully, of course- I'm not going to throw them on the floor- but they will be moved. My allotted laundry time does not take into account your laziness. I repeat- I don't want to handle your laundry... and I shouldn't have to, either. Or would you like me to fluff and fold too??
Set an alarm. Or just look at a clock, and do the math. Understand that there are precious few facilities, and we all need a turn. Or were you absent the day in kindergarten they taught how to share? Or how about the day they taught how to tell time, at least? Missed that one too, huh?
Now, I am not unreasonable- if you are five minutes late in getting your laundry out- I am not gonna throw up a fuss. But when your wet laundry is still there after I have taken it out, and done four loads of my own? Give me a break, people. You're not the only person on the planet, stop acting like it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Scoot. Over.
On the train this morning, a guy got on struggling with stuff in his hands... his over the shoulder bag, his book, and his... scooter. Like a razor scooter- the kind you might find a child skipping down the street on. Now I try not to be judgemental (often times horribly unsuccessfully), but come on.. a scooter? What self respecting adult finds this mode of transportation reasonable? All I know is the last thing I want to have to avoid as I walk down a crowded city street is some kid on a scooter- notice I said kid, because having to avoid being run over by an adult on a scooter shouldn't even be on the list.
So what does this full-grown man who is okay with zipping around the city on scooter read, you ask: Proust's Swann's Way. Hmmm... Flash back to childhood anyone? Who wants a cookie?
So what does this full-grown man who is okay with zipping around the city on scooter read, you ask: Proust's Swann's Way. Hmmm... Flash back to childhood anyone? Who wants a cookie?
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