We've come so far, we've lost so much

Deeps and I have a lot of interests - art, film, cooking, hiking, photography, and books to name a few - but we really like television. We like it so much we do a weekly pop culture podcast primarily about TV. (Are you still not listening? Because that hurts my feelings - I mean feeling.)

Anyway, the Writer's Strike was a little tougher on us than the usual TV viewer. Not only do we watch TV but we talk about it and other people listen to us discuss it. We muddled through and now that the strike is over, we are just a few weeks away from lots of returning television. Of course, that long run to new television was never more apparent than Wednesday night.

We had sent back our Netflix and the new shipment hadn't arrived yet. We stared down a hideous hour of TV featuring stuff like "Reality Narcissist" and "Suitcase or No Suitcase". I opted to explore the wonders of cable TV "on demand" which means you can watch total crap whenever you want.

Oh and the crap I found. I watched an episode of Fantasy Island from approximately 1978 (if my reading of roman numerals is right).

It was full of stars: Abe Vigoda, Cesar Romero, John Saxon, Don Knotts, Lisa Hartman and Florence Henderson. Two of the three stories covered topics that I were very popular in the 70s - nuns in crisis and satanists.

It was awful. Deeps actually begged me to stop watching. When I tried to fire up another episode, he suggested we just go to bed early.

I've been incredibly well-rested all week.

Labels: 2008, marriage, television