One of the things is that I love watching television. I know it's not PC or cool to admit it, but there you have it. I hate reality shows. They are a mindless wasteland that circumvents the talents of writers, actors, and others who have perfected their crafts to entertain us. I miss the days when there were more shows on that make use of clever and witty dialog delivered with perfection. Oh, yes, there are some that still come to that standard, but they seem so few and far between. Thank God for The Big Bang Theory and reruns of shows like M*A*S*H, Frasier, The Golden Girls, Roseanne, and Barney Miller. These shows helped me hone my writing chops.
On the other hand, there are a couple of reality shows I do watch. Both address issues in my own life and I use them as inspiration. One is The Biggest Loser, even though the quality of the show has dropped as they cut the show from two hours to one hour per episode. I miss getting to know more of the issues facing the contestants as they go on their weight-loss journey and how they deal with them. The other show is Hoarders. I am a low-level hoarder and this show inspires me to clean and organize. Beyond these I don't do reality shows.
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Not that the Dems don't have their issues, but at least they aren't dipping their toes into racism, misogyny, and hatred. Even those who are attempting to take the high road seem destined to descend into finger pointing.
Is it any wonder that after all of this I sometimes feel the need to take refuge in an episode of Arthur and let my inner child take over for a half an hour? There the biggest enemy is dealing with a few growing pains. What a burden they seemed to be back in the day and yet now we would gladly return. Back then the only presidential election we cared about was whether Mr. Howell or the Skipper would become president of the island.