April 15, 2016--Watching Alone

A few weeks ago a friend asked if I had gotten around yet to watching all 13 episodes of House of Cards.

"I'm only up to number six and . . ."

"Be patient, it gets better," she said, "I thought it started a little slowly but when they got to Claire's mother who . . ."

I cut her off. "Please don't talk about it until I've seen all the episodes. I don't want you to unintentionally say something about one I haven't seen and by doing that take away some of my pleasure. I'm into it and liking it and that's all I want to say right now. We're resisting binge-watching so we can squeeze out two a night, to attenuate the pleasure, and so it won't be until next week that I'll be ready to talk about it."

"Can't you maybe pick up the pace? I'm dying to hear what you think, especially what happens to Jackie . . . "

"There you go again. Really, please let me enjoy the show at my own pace and then we'll talk about all of it."

Which I did and, after that, Reggie and Rona and I had fun comparing reactions.

"You know," I said, "in the earlier days of TV, before a Netflix or Amazon existed much less could dump a whole season of programs in one batch on line or before there was On Demand, which allows you to watch a favorite show at any time. In the past if you missed an episode of, say, The Sopranos on Sunday night there was no way to see it until a year or two later when it was into reruns."

"In addition," Rona said, "if you were working in an office one of the pleasures would be to come in Monday morning and gather at the water cooler or coffee machine and talk with colleagues about the shows we all watched over the weekend. Very much including The Sopranos."

"Or Mad Men," Reggie added.

"I miss those days," Rona said. "It made for good colleagueship."

"Including of a different kind," I said.

"What do you mean?" Reggie asked.

"Well, at the proverbial or real water cooler secretaries and bosses had something in common to talk about. In a non-hierarchical way. Everyone could chime in as equals."

"I try to resist being too nostalgic," Reggie said, "And, in spite of my nudging you about House of Cards, I think that was a better way to watch and then talk about one's favorite programs, especially since there were always a few shows that everyone seemed to be interested in."

This reminded me of Robert Putnam's classic 1995 essay, "Bowling Alone," where he noted the reduction in all forms of social interaction which Americans previously used to participate in to enrich the fabric of their communal lives. He argued that this decline had the consequence of undermining the kind of active civic engagement that democracy requires from its citizens.

I ran all of this by a young friend who, when typically I talk about the differences between then and now, rolls her eyes and pats me sympathetically on the arm, as if to say, "Then was your time and now is mine.

"But," I pressed her, how do you and your friends talk about things you've watched? That is, if you watch any TV at all much less talk about any shows."

"We watch plenty, especially some of our favorites on TV when they're first broadcast and we do a lot of communicating about it."

"Communicating? That's an interesting way to talk about it. Is that different than talking about it? I mean, I know there are no more water coolers."

"I suppose so."

"Help me out here. Give me a few specifics. How does this communicating work?"

Take Girls, which we all love."

"No surprise there."

"My friends and I watch it in real time, on Sunday night on HBO, and communicate about it all along the way."

"You call or text each other while the show's on?"

"Sort of. But manly we Tweet about it. Twitter is perfect for that. Short and sweet comments so we can pay attention to what's happening on the show."

"And when an episode's over, say the next day, do you talk about Hannah's tribulations?"

"Not really. Pretty much what we do is Tweet."

When I told Reggie about this, she wasn't that happy about what I reported. She doesn't have much patience for social media. In truth, neither do I.

"What about OJ?" she asked.

"The People verse OJ Simpson?"

"I thought it started slowly but once they got to that episode devoted to Marcia Clark, it really . . ."

"Let me stop you again. We've only seen three episodes and as with House of Cards we're rationing our viewing. It's so much fun that we're stretching it out and . . ."

"That may be fun for you, but I'll tell you what's not fun."

"What's that?"

"You."

January 20, 2105--Mitt Redux

Just as I was slipping into despair that my favorite sitcom would not return for another season--the Republican Clown Car--what with no Herman (Pokemon) Cain and no Michele (pray-away-the-gay) Bachmann, how would I spend the next two years? Stuck with House of Cards, Shark Tank, Dancing With the Stars, and God help me, Girls? I might even have to develop a taste, I moaned, for the Home Shopping Network.

But I can calm down. Things are beginning to shape up.

No only are Bachmann and Cain making noises that they might in fact run for the 2016 nomination but there is also Rand Paul (who looks like a clown), Ted Cruz (who looks like Joseph McCarthy), Jeb Bush (who looks like George W. Bush), Scott Walker and Paul Ryan (both of whom look like Eddie Munster from the Munsters), Chris Christie (who, in spite of his lap-band surgery, still looks like he belongs more in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade than the White House), Donald (you're fired) Trump, and who can forget Rick (love-the-new-glasses) Perry, especially if he's on the same meds he was using in 2012 when he reminded us that the American revolution occurred during the 16th century.

Then, of course, thank you Mitt Romney who is back for a third run. Etch-A-Sketch Mitt who this time around promises to run a campaign devoted to "lifting people out of poverty." The same Mitt who three years ago called this same 47 percent of the population "takers."

I'm sure some of his Republican opponents will remind us that this is the same out-of-touch Romney who drove to Canada with the family dog strapped to the roof of his car, offered to bet Perry $10,000 about his position on health care reform, and in his new zillion-dollar California house has an elevator for one of his wife's Cadillacs.

He may have been a gaff-prone candidate (I confess to looking forward to the inevitable new ones) but every poll of likely GOP voters shows him doing much better than even Jeb Bush when it comes to a potential race against Hillary Clinton.

If Mitt and the rest of the cast of the nomination-seeking candidates don't do it for you, there is also now a new rising star--African-American neurosurgeon Ben Carson who already has a long list of fun quotes, including a recent one that claims that "Obamacare is the worst thing since slavery."

It continues to amaze me how Republicans manage to find black politicians who are as regressive on race as their GOP country-club colleagues. It's clearly a comfort to the Fat Cats and the source of mid-winter amusement to me.

May 6, 2014--Law & Order

We have a problem.

With considerable effort and tenacity, via Netflix streaming, we worked our way through nearly five seasons of The Good Wife (112 episodes!) and are, like the rest of America, waiting for the final two episodes to air.

Questions await resolution--

Will Alicia Florrick quit her firm and return to Lockhart & Gardner, to join Diane as co-senior partner? What will Kalinda be up to next and who will she take to bed? And what about the Michael J. Fox character, Louis (the Devil) Canning? With the remaining year of his life, will he work to rebuild LG or finally, from within, succeed in bringing it down? And then what about Alicia's husband Peter, the governor? Will he be able to fend off accusations of voter fraud, stay out of jail, and keep the bimbos at bay?

So you see, we have a lot of work ahead of us.

But, very soon, we will be done with The Good Wife, as we are with the 26 episodes of House of Cards, until at least next fall.

Thus our problem--what to do between now and then?

For decades we avoided watching TV series. Claiming this was because we wanted to reserve ourselves for "higher things" such as reading. OK, also to compulsively watch news on TV. But we avoided all series, in truth worried we'd like them, get drawn in, and even addicted.

What happened to so dramatically change our viewing habits?

Last summer, over lobster rolls with our friend Ann, she told us that via streaming she was watching for a second time all episodes of West Wing.

Now, Ann is a very accomplished person. She has been a dean and vice president at a number of major universities and and we were surprised to hear that she was so involved with TV shows of this kind. If anything, one would take her for a PBS/C-SPAN type.

"You've never seen it?" she was incredulous to learn, "I would have thought . . ."

"I know a couple of people who were involved," I said, "Gene Sperling, who wrote a few episodes and I think was a story consultant, and Anna Deavere Smith who . . ."

"Played Nancy McNally," Ann said, "the president's national security advisor. You should give it a try. I think you'll love it."

And indeed we did. We watched all 154 episodes over two months and loved them all. Some days, actually nights, watching four or five, staying up as late as 2:00 a.m.

But now . . .

We couldn't make ourselves watch more that the first 15 minutes of the first episode of Game of Thrones. Too much gratuitous violence. And we didn't do much better with Breaking Bad, touted by a number of fiends to whom we confessed we had become fully addicted to entertainment programming. We watched the first two episodes but didn't get hooked. Again, too violent, too grimy, and not about a subject we care about--a professor making and dealing methamphetamine. Really?

The Wire sounds good--also recommended, especially by a cousin who grew up in Baltimore where it was set. But it doesn't appear to be available vis streaming, only DVD discs and we don't have a VCR up in Maine and have no intention of getting one. We're even thinking about leaving our Roku device in New York to keep Maine as media-free as we can handle.

Another friend, who is a confessed TV addict and has great taste in books, movies, theater, and food, has been talking about Law & Order for years. It's her favorite show and stars Jerry Orbach. Good enough for me. So while waiting for the return of House of Cards, Good Wife, and, I almost forgot, Homeland, we'll check it out.

Netflix does stream it so maybe we will take Roku with us, and since it ran on TV for 20, yes, 20 years, there are 456, yes, 456 episodes. I calculate that if we limit ourselves to just one a day, it will take 14 months to get through all of them. All right, if it grabs us we'll watch two a day over only seven months.

But if our experience with West Wing is a guide, we'll get high on five a day, staying up to at least midnight, and this means we'll be done in about three months. That could work.

But, then again, after that, what will we watch? Maybe West Wing all over again? Like Ann.

I'll let you know how we do. As they say, stay tuned.