It’s not you… It’s Family Ties.

I dabbed at my puffy eyes and looked at the front door.  My husband would be home soon, and how would I explain the state I was in.  I had been crying… a lot.  What would I say to him when he walked in the door?  He’s been so busy lately, and I was sure he would think I was crying about him… being late… very late… again.

I would just have to tell him,

“It’s not you… It’s Family Ties.”

I don’t sleep well when he’s not home, so I pacify myself with late night re-runs of eighties shows.  This particular evening it was Family Ties.

I cried.

I cried because of how much I loved Michael J. Fox, and how sad it makes me to see him now.  I cried because in this particular episode, Alex P. Keaton learned that he couldn’t always be the best at everything.  I cried because it was a family show, with great characters, and TV nowadays sucks.

And, believe it or not… I cried about the shoulder pads.  Because in my opinion, the show is still enjoyable to watch… it stands the test of time… with the exception of the shoulder pads.  They ruin everything.  They were the biggest fashion mistake of the century.

Then, I cried because of the blatant disregard for grammar in the theme song… and the fact that I loved it regardless.

What’ll we do, baby, without us?

What’ll we do, baby, without us?

And there ain’t no nothin’ we can’t love each other through oooh…

What’ll we do, baby, without us?

Sha la la la.

I believe it could quite possibly be the shortest and best theme song ever sung.

I may have also been crying because I’m in the third trimester, uncomfortable, hormonal, and exhausted.

But I’m pretty sure it was mostly because of the theme song.

Sha la la la

 

Big Love- leaving a Big Mark on the landscape of television… and a Big Hole in my life.

*You will find no spoilers here.  I do not punish people for recording, and watching at a later date.

Never in my life have I been so emotional about a show coming to it’s end.

Sunday was indeed the Lord’s day in our house… at least for a few months out of the year when HBO brought us Big Love.  And after five years, I can say with certainty that it is one of the finest works on television I have ever had the pleasure to watch.

If you don’t watch the show, then this post is probably not for you.

If you do watch the show…

then your heart was part of the collective breaking sound that occurred when the show aired it’s final episode on March 20, 2011.

Ultimately, this show is what the telling of stories is about.  To give us insight into human nature, judgment, forgiveness, family, love. To ask questions of ourselves, of others.  To make us think and feel.

The creators of Big Love (Mark Olsen and Will Scheffer) took polygamy- a belief that most of the country ridicules, and built a multifaceted, real, humanly dirty, beautiful, show around it.

These characters became real to me.  The three wives are so incredibly different that it seems to make sense that together they would make each other whole.  Not to mention the cast of sterling actors.  Bill Paxton, Jeanne Tripplehorn, Chloe Sevigny, and Ginnifer Goodwin are together the perfect storm.

And as sad as I am that the show has ended.  I believe it ended at the perfect time, and in the perfect way.  It was a flash.  An injection into the social consciousness… never at risk of beating an already dead horse.

And it will leave a scar.  Not only by the ideas that it introduced, but by the quality of entertainment it brought.  The bar is forever raised by a show like this.

The last episode was beautifully done, with all the main characters fulfilling their destinies.  There was the prophet, the priesthood holder, the servant, and the one who finally knew and felt what it meant to be family.  I was always so in awe of Bill Henrickson’s ability to cling to his faith in the toughest of times, and to infuse that faith into his family.  But it wasn’t until the last episode that I got the message (along with him) that true faith “comes from the love of family- not the other way around.”

We all have family, or those that we consider family, that love us.  And if you don’t, you want it.  You’re looking for it.  Fierce love- It’s that love that gives us faith… maybe faith in something bigger and more beautiful than ourselves, or faith in mankind, or ourselves.

The show really was about BIG LOVE.

And how delicious that the backdrop of something so risky, scandalous, and illegal as polygamy was used to give us such a wholesome, brilliant, and peaceful message.

Although Big Love has won no Emmys, it has won over most of America- well, the HBO subscribers, anyway.

So, in a world of Jersey Shore, the Bachelor, Real Housewives, and where a show like Two and Half Men runs forever- I thank you.

When a television show opens my mind, it’s good stuff.

But when it also open my heart, it’s stellar.

To the cast, producers, and crew of Big Love…

big thanks.

I’ll miss you.

 

 

Nadya Suleman has left me in limbo.

Yes, I absolutely watched the Nadya Suleman two hour special of “unseen footage” last night. This particular evening, I felt like judging someone, pointing my finger, and feeling self-righteous.  It was as if the Gods had designed the night’s television programing just for me.

Octomom …

on a silver platter…

enjoy…

I settled on my couch with a bowl of pasta, ready to feel the anger rise up inside of me.  Unfortunately, I was denied.

Oh there was anger, a little, but it didn’t really rise- just kinda floated around a bit. She’s attention- seeking, for sure. She’s messed up. She’s put these children in a horrible situation. But these are all things I already knew, and now after watching this stupid special, I know that she knows it too. She said herself that she screwed up her life, she’s screwed up her children’s lives, and now she’s just doing the best she can.

Well, fuck.

I can’t really hate you when you admit that you’re wrong.

We’re all just doing the best we can. And we’ve all made some mistakes– I’ve made some doozies.

I suppose I was hoping to either be filled with hate, or, on the other side of the spectrum, to see some great redemption story. Instead I just saw a woman who messed up big time and is living with the consequences.  I didn’t feel sorry for her, she brought it on herself. I didn’t hate her either. I was just … apathetic.

Well, Jesus, apathy I can get at the grocery store.

I did feel a little sorry for the kids. But, honestly, there was so much crying and whining in that household, that my special mommy mute button was pressed. You know, the one that allows you to keep your sanity amidst the earth shattering sound of your child’s cries. That one.

So, two hours of television equaled wasted time for me. I learned nothing, felt little, and have now resigned myself to no more Octomom viewing or reading.

At least, I’m gonna try really hard.

–seriously