Here is my dilemma. Do I blog or watch the new episode of Castle?
Now some of you out there are thinking , really? Castle? And others out there are thinking, OMG, Castle!! And still others are thinking, Uhm, Castle? But regardless of which group you fall into, you all know the pull of something beyond reason. That guilty pleasure that keeps you slightly on the other side of who you purport to be. I usually snub any book that’s popular on public transportation, especially mysteries, but I consume Tana French novels. I like to tell co-workers at lunch about something I heard recently on NPR, but I have the radio channels in my car set to pop music stations that blast the likes of Pink and Train. I subscribe to The New Yorker once every 5 years or so, but I secretly pick up Women’s Day magazines at the grocery store and read about organizing closets, saving on the grocery bills, seasonal casseroles, how to reduce stress, and the foods that fight cancer.
As for television, well, let’s just say it is easier sometimes to be out about my sexual orientation than all the ridiculous TV shows I get hooked on. Luckily, I have not succumbed to reality shows and I tend to steer clear of sitcoms (except for Modern Family which I adore). But, honestly, I have even caught myself laughing at the stuff my 11-year-old still watches, like The Suite Life of Zack and Cody (if you’ve never heard of it, count your blessings). And my other half and I find ourselves watching Mad Men episodes instead of going out on Saturday night. We actually tape episodes from the Cooking Channel to watch later (Top Chef, Giada, The Barefoot Contessa, Bobby Flay or Tyler’s Ultimate–we even watched one competition with Food trucks). And just how many episodes on the DIY network can you actually use in your own home?
I know all the warnings about TV and what it does to us as functioning human beings–I think we would ultimately all be better people without it. But it does lure me, like Bali Hai, Shangri-La, Las Vegas. It relaxes and teases and excites and ultimately seduces me away from my other responsibilities and interests and needs. It makes me crazy and keeps me sane and makes me laugh and numbs me out and even at times reinforces the fact that I should be writing instead of wasting my time with it. But I always go back.
Someday I want to go away to a monastary for a month and ween myself off of TV and Women’s Day magazines and sugar and a few other bad habits. But meantime, I’ve missed 6 minutes of Castle. Thank God for the DVR.