Jon and I both watch entirely too much television these days and long nights into early mornings. For Jon, that dates back to September 2008 when he retired early rather than face another year of county bureaucracy. My bad viewing habits kicked into high gear once I finally retired on disability two years ago. High gear for me suggests a snail’s pace, since I can barely stay awake for more than two hours.
Of course, my beloved and I are on entirely different if not conflicting schedules. And we both have very specific preferences.
Jon is a self-labeled SciFi aficionado, a Star Trek “geek”, and an avid follower of all things “Vampirical”. I prefer dramas, whether courtroom or costume, and “Night of the Living Dead”, my guiltiest of guilty pleasures, and one that I don’t always readily admit. During precious daylight hours, I would offer the Apocalyptic and Allegorical Defense.
As it is just shy of darkness here, I must admit that I’m just simply fond of zombies, their habits, as well as their delightful and novel accoutrements and attachments. Busy. Busy. Busy. (Don’t mind me. I am definitely not inferring that there were any Zombies whatsoever in “The Whales of August” although such a film reference is a stretch at its most oblique.)
There is, however, a common thread these days of both major network demise and the phoenix-like bloom of cable TV. There are really only a handful of formats and venues these days: for dramas, comedies, and reality shows.
So in the interest of appealing to the broadest audiences, Jon and I might propose a few regular series — for Cable or otherwise.
“In Their Blood” might center on a pair of morgue enthusiasts who use their forensic skills and Vampire hobbies to solve crimes and judge Ink rallies. One of the leads is of the lipstick variety hinting ever so gently at lesbianism, the last of the U.S. Censorship Frontiers. If Sharon Gless and Tyne Daly are available this would be a perfect “Cagney und Lacey, the Final Years”.
If the network executives are amenable, the CSI and NCIS franchises could be combined for one mega-series, a task so mammoth that only a CBS or a Lifetime could make the concept an advertising and Nielson Ratings extravaganza.
The all news networks, scripted or not, have survived so many 21st century changes that we advocate simply setting into place both “Good News” or “Bad News” formats, the later one best described as Fox News but with better make-up. In contrast, the former might take the shell that is CNN’s greatest hits, but with competitive and “cutting edge” food trucks.
Reality shows, at the end of the broadcast day, are almost indistinguishable from each other, seemingly filmed in the same region of the U.S. Perhaps, the answer can be found in a Duck Dynasty Dance Moms or a Bridzilla Bounty Hunters or even a “Bachelorette: Love It or List It.” Jon and I are in total agreement, however, on one point: Honey Boo-Boo should be banned from ever gracing our friendly airwaves again. Even though most reality shows seem to celebrate humanity at its ugliest and most ignorant, there is a limit of “Expected Toleration” especially during Prime Time.
Finally, with the passing of the iconic Joan Rivers, what can we expect from the future of Red Carpet coverage? Is there a saturation level? Is this just another area that we can expect inevitable Osbourne domination?
And the window treatments, are they red also?
I am weary from weathering such a brainstorm, albeit one of category II status. I can see my teleprompter all aflutter as naptime at Marklewood nears.
(Image: “Between Two Worlds” by Gyurka Lohmuller, 2009.)