Thank You, Television, for Making My Weekend and Making Me Fat

I spent a lot of this weekend on the sofa. Well, not the entire weekend. I hit up a couple of E.A.S.T. studios and caught the Murdocks/Kinch/Local H show on Sunday night. But most of the weekend was spent on the sofa watching Flashdance and TV shows on DVD.

Television is magical, and in most cases, a waste of time. TV also makes me fat. But why does some stuff on television have to be so wonderful?

Take Six Feet Under (2001-2005), the wonderful HBO series created and produced by Alan Ball (also the creator and producer of True Blood) about an American Family that runs and lives in a funeral home. The show was magnificent and full of five of magnificent seasons of drama, sex, death, and humor. I knew it was a good show because the characters tortured me, and I grew to love and hate all of them at different moments in the series.

The Fisher Family of Six Feet Under

Before Six Feet Under, it was Friends – not because I thought people could really sit around 80 percent of the day drinking coffee, reading, and making gossip, but only because the show made me smile and genuinely laugh every once in a while. A friend of mine described what Friends does for him, and he described it beautifully – “It’s the show that you can sit there and just watch with a big smile on your face.” Yes. Yes, it is. I call it “comfort television.”

As for shows that are still on the air, it’s all about 30 Rock, Mad Men, and How I Met Your Mother. But because I don’t have cable and my TV-watching schedule revolves around when each season comes out on DVD, I always seem to be one or two seasons behind. That’s okay, though, because every time a new season is out and available for rent in full from I Luv Video, I begin to feel all cozy inside because I know it’s going to be a relaxing weekend with PJ pants, poodle, and sweet food like peppermint ice cream and peanut butter cookies. That’s how television is making me fat.

Suggestions for removing the television-comfort-eating-induced bulge?

If not, that’s okay. I can learn to love the bulge.


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Filed under Austin, Food, Movies, Television

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