OUR TV FRIENDS
I think our TV friends are our most generous friends. Week after week, they let us come into their lives just so we can see what they're up to, and they never intrude upon our lives. This is great fun because our TV friends are often several tax brackets removed from us yet condescend to confide in us.
However, we can often find ourselves in awkward positions with our TV friends: How do we tell them they have become a little stale? I mean, look at the opening credits to The Andy Griffith Show. For more than 40 years, Andy and Opie have just kept walking down that country lane, never trying to do anything different. How do we tell them that, though we have greatly appreciated their company these past decades, their stuff is becoming painfully boring. Maybe if we do so, they might try something different. Something like Andy and Opie walking down that country lane with their fishing poles ... and a sultry beauty in a tight dress approaching Andy in a forward, suggestive manner. Andy talking to the woman, then pushing Opie toward home as he puts his arm around the woman and they walk off in the other direction. Or what about Opie wheeling an inebriated Andy back home in a wheelbarrow? What about a shot where we first see Opie running full bore down that road and then see Andy chasing after him, firing his pistol at the boy's feet because Opie had painted a mustache on Andy while he was sleeping? What about showing the two of them fishing? It would be so cool if a giant bass leaped out of the water and snatched Opie down to his ankles before plunging back in the lake.
I think any one of those ideas may put some freshness back into the show.
Another problem with our TV friends is how to make sure they really are who they appear to be. You see, they have the upper hand on us; they know that we are going to be visiting them at certain times, and so probably put on their best behavior when we are there. But suppose we dropped in unexpectedly? Suppose instead of visiting Mayberry on a Tuesday night, we visited it on a Thursday night? We might see Andy Taylor applying a rough, Southern justice to a busload of Freedom Riders. We might see why the preposterously Caucasian Mayberry has no black people.
Similarly, suppose we went to Walton Mountain on a Saturday night instead of a Thursday night. I bet you dollars to doughnuts we would see a totally different family. Ma and Pa Walton would probably be drunk as hell, and the dialogue would probably be something like "Heet 'im, Daydee! Heet Grampa uhgain!"
And every time we stopped into see the Mission: Impossible crew, they always took the assignment. But maybe we might catch them slacking off if we surprised them. Or we might see that their missions didn't always further the cause of liberty. Imagine the tape saying "Good morning, Mr. Phelps. The man you see before you is Esteban Rivera, the democratically elected president of a Central American nation. President Rivera is considering establishing a minimum wage in his country, a move that would adversely affect a major campaign contributor of the United States president. Your mission, Mr. Phelps, is to overthrow Rivera and set up in his place a corrupt military junta that won't make harvesting pineapples and bananas a black hole for U.S. dollars."
I know, such thoughts seem rude and uncharitable to our TV friends. But friends have to be honest with each other.
****
And speaking of TV friends, Kim's return to 24 was about what I expected: she is still pouty and dumber than a bag of hammers. At some point I was hoping Audrey would go up to Jack and whisper in his ear, "Don't worry. You and I can have one that isn't so stupid." The only thing that lacked credibility is that Kim's boyfriend made it off the show without losing a limb. Since Kim's boyfriends usually wind up dismembered, things would have been more believable if he had lost his hand while searching for a sticky note in a work station drawer.
****
And how's this for a Cherry Blossom Festival haiku:
Cherry blossoms bloom
heralds of the coming spring
I married a jerk
or this
Cherry blossoms fly
to color the city pink
screw my lousy job
I think our TV friends are our most generous friends. Week after week, they let us come into their lives just so we can see what they're up to, and they never intrude upon our lives. This is great fun because our TV friends are often several tax brackets removed from us yet condescend to confide in us.
However, we can often find ourselves in awkward positions with our TV friends: How do we tell them they have become a little stale? I mean, look at the opening credits to The Andy Griffith Show. For more than 40 years, Andy and Opie have just kept walking down that country lane, never trying to do anything different. How do we tell them that, though we have greatly appreciated their company these past decades, their stuff is becoming painfully boring. Maybe if we do so, they might try something different. Something like Andy and Opie walking down that country lane with their fishing poles ... and a sultry beauty in a tight dress approaching Andy in a forward, suggestive manner. Andy talking to the woman, then pushing Opie toward home as he puts his arm around the woman and they walk off in the other direction. Or what about Opie wheeling an inebriated Andy back home in a wheelbarrow? What about a shot where we first see Opie running full bore down that road and then see Andy chasing after him, firing his pistol at the boy's feet because Opie had painted a mustache on Andy while he was sleeping? What about showing the two of them fishing? It would be so cool if a giant bass leaped out of the water and snatched Opie down to his ankles before plunging back in the lake.
I think any one of those ideas may put some freshness back into the show.
Another problem with our TV friends is how to make sure they really are who they appear to be. You see, they have the upper hand on us; they know that we are going to be visiting them at certain times, and so probably put on their best behavior when we are there. But suppose we dropped in unexpectedly? Suppose instead of visiting Mayberry on a Tuesday night, we visited it on a Thursday night? We might see Andy Taylor applying a rough, Southern justice to a busload of Freedom Riders. We might see why the preposterously Caucasian Mayberry has no black people.
Similarly, suppose we went to Walton Mountain on a Saturday night instead of a Thursday night. I bet you dollars to doughnuts we would see a totally different family. Ma and Pa Walton would probably be drunk as hell, and the dialogue would probably be something like "Heet 'im, Daydee! Heet Grampa uhgain!"
And every time we stopped into see the Mission: Impossible crew, they always took the assignment. But maybe we might catch them slacking off if we surprised them. Or we might see that their missions didn't always further the cause of liberty. Imagine the tape saying "Good morning, Mr. Phelps. The man you see before you is Esteban Rivera, the democratically elected president of a Central American nation. President Rivera is considering establishing a minimum wage in his country, a move that would adversely affect a major campaign contributor of the United States president. Your mission, Mr. Phelps, is to overthrow Rivera and set up in his place a corrupt military junta that won't make harvesting pineapples and bananas a black hole for U.S. dollars."
I know, such thoughts seem rude and uncharitable to our TV friends. But friends have to be honest with each other.
****
And speaking of TV friends, Kim's return to 24 was about what I expected: she is still pouty and dumber than a bag of hammers. At some point I was hoping Audrey would go up to Jack and whisper in his ear, "Don't worry. You and I can have one that isn't so stupid." The only thing that lacked credibility is that Kim's boyfriend made it off the show without losing a limb. Since Kim's boyfriends usually wind up dismembered, things would have been more believable if he had lost his hand while searching for a sticky note in a work station drawer.
****
And how's this for a Cherry Blossom Festival haiku:
Cherry blossoms bloom
heralds of the coming spring
I married a jerk
or this
Cherry blossoms fly
to color the city pink
screw my lousy job
posted by John Parnell at 9:38 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home