Apparently, according to a recent newspaper article, viewers are getting sick of reality TV shows.
You don’t say.
Could it be that people are actually discovering that time spent in front of the tube watching others’ (laughably) “real” lives is time that’s not spent developing real friendships, pursuing real hobbies, learning real skills, getting real exercise or even real sleep?
Frankly, I’m just feeling like an old fuddy-duddy nowadays, because at the approaching-dentures-age of 34, I don’t get most of popular culture. I don’t understand why people wear clothes that are clearly uncomfortable, why people love so much music that is — by pretty much any unbiased measurement — unmusical, and why people watch so many crime shows (isn’t there enough adversity, darkness, and gore in the real world?)
I yearn for a mixture of former and modern times. I am deeply saddened that I missed the eras of Beethoven and Basie, but I am thrilled to be living in a time in which I can connect with other theatre aficianados across the world via the Internet.
I’m simply disgusted when I listen to the Top Billboard charts via online music services, but uplifted when I can discover amazing gems from over 1.5 million songs in these same grand jukeboxes at home and work for $5/month.
I want to shatter glass when I encounter the pure idiocy of a TV barking CNN news coverage in my hotel elevator. But I feel like hugging my radio when I hear yet another enlightening or heartwarming segment on NPR.
I want to create an island with all the good mixed from disparate eras and cultures, and move there… as long as I have a good Internet connection, lots of quality broadway musicals, several fab big bands, my favorite lindy hop teachers, good sushi, a nice piano, a big heated swimming pool, snappy dressers, organic foods, women with sexy aussie accents… okay, okay, it’ll have to be a hell of a big island.