Tag Archives: television

Why Can’t I Stop Watching Bad TV?

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rizzoliandisles

 

The other night, my husband and I endured watched Rizzoli and Isles, as we do just about every week when it’s new. If you haven’t had the pleasure, it’s a “cop show” in which Detective Jane Rizzoli and Medical Examiner Dr. Maura Isles are BFF’s who “solve crimes” in between shopping trips, dating fiascos, and life lessons about love, responsibility, and sticking up for the little guy. I believe it’s the longest running after school special on TV.

I put “solve crimes” in quotes because the characters don’t so much investigate as stumble across the perfect clue after forty-five minutes of strengthening their relationships with cheeseburgers and corny jokes. Not that I’m complaining.

So you might wonder, “Hey Nicole, if you hate it so much, why not just switch it off?”

I’ve been asking myself that same question for years. Here are a few theories I have:

1.I enjoy the complaining.

Here’s what goes on in my living room during Rizzoli and Isles:

rizzoli-isles-3

Isles: I won’t rule it a homicide until I’m able to examine the evidence. I can’t be certain of the cause of death until I get the victim back to the lab.

Rizzoli (rolls eyes): Maura, come on. The man’s got a bullet hole right between the eyes! Do you think maybe the bullet lodged itself in that one unnecessary corner of his brain that he doesn’t need for-I don’t know-living? Then he went walking around until he was hit by a bus?

(Korsak and Frankie chuckle and shake their heads)

Isles (laughing): Well it’s possible.

Me: Dear God, could this show get any cheesier?

Matt: Come on, honey. All cops rib each other with corny jokes containing absolutely no profanity or humor.

Rizzoli (reads her caller ID): Ugh, it’s Ma. Frankie, you gotta take this one!

Frankie: Hey, it was your idea to sign her up for speed dating.

Rizzoli: Yeah, but now she wants to give me all the details on every single guy she meets. Maura, you talk to her.

Isles (laughing): I have talked to her. I’m encouraging her to be more adventurous with her romantic escapades. It’s important for menopausal women to-

Rizzoli: Uh, never mind! My mother doesn’t need you acting as her-I don’t know-menopause madam.

(All 4 characters chuckle together and shake their heads)

Me: How is her phone still ringing?

Rizzoli (answering the phone): Yeah, Ma…sorry, I can’t hear you. Bad connection.

(Rizzoli makes faces at Isles, Frankie, and Korsak, who all chuckle silently.)

Rizzoli: What’s that? No, I can’t…But Ma I’m…Alright. Yeah, I’ll be there. Fifteen minutes. (Hangs up the phone.) Now I gotta go meet her at Korsak’s bar. O000h, this is going to be so painful!

Korsak (laughing): Don’t worry. I was just on my way to check on the inventory anyway. I’ll try to cushion your conversation.

Isles: We’ll all go. I could use a burger.

Frankie: Even me?

Rizzoli: Yes, you! She’s your mother too!

Frankie: Aw, man! Why did you have to drag me into this?

Rizzoli (gives Frankie a noogie): Because you’re my brother, now scoot!

Me: So I guess they just forgot about the dead body?

Matt: Don’t worry. Just before the end of the episode, the solution to the crime will fall into their laps.

2.It’s kind of a tradition

What would my Monday nights be like with no Rizzoli and Isles? Margaritas on the deck? Conversations with my husband? Getting an extra hour of sleep? Wait, maybe I need to re-think this tradition.

3. Do I actually like the show?

Are any of the above really good enough reasons to stick with a show for 6 seasons? I mean, do I really like complaining that much? Don’t Matt and I enjoy chatting over drinks on our back deck?

Maybe I like corny jokes. I do find the brightness and cleanness of the show a little refreshing. At least I’m not watching a story about depraved human beings doing awful things to each other.

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never know! Join us next time as we over-analyze and complain about Major Crimes! (Subtitle: It’s like The Closer, but we’ve taken out the clever plot twists, and added in a creepy romantic relationship between the two least sexy characters on TV.)

 

Are there any shows you love to hate? Send them my way in the comments!

 

 

Snow Diary

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This is a record of the Roder Family’s experience with the epic storm of January 2016, dubbed “Snowzilla” by the Washington Post. (For the purposes of posterity, this writer will document all trials, difficulties, and opinions associated with the storm, including the fact that I think the name “Snowzilla” is a little lame.)

 

Wednesday, Jan. 20

12:00 PM: In preparation for the storm, I have ventured into the vast wilderness known as “Target” for supplies to sustain my family these next days. Despite reports from my compatriots of jungle-like conditions in neighboring “Giant” and “Safeway,” my chosen supply post is relatively empty of wild life, with only a few yoga pant-clad moms stocking up on milk and toilet paper.

I am chagrined, however, to discover that the Target employees who staff the snack bar have called in sick, and I am forced to do my shopping without my fountain diet coke. A sense of foreboding overcomes me as I consider this ominous presage of what the coming days may bring.

9:00 PM: The region is crippled when 1 inch of snow falls on untreated roads two days in advance of the expected storm. My husband asks if I remembered to buy sausage.

Thursday, Jan. 21

5:30 AM: I wake to my daughter climbing into my bed, claiming to have dreamt that her father turned into a pirate and beckoned her to come to him from the top of the stairs. She is terrified and wants comfort, so she snuggles under my blanket while the pirate stirs next to us, preparing to get up for work. I reach an arm out into the icy bedroom air to check my text messages. A missive from the county alerts me that schools will open two hours late. I pump my fist and exclaim, “Yes!” then turn off my alarm.

7:51 AM: I wake to my iPhone buzzing yet again. This message alerts me that schools will remain closed all day. I celebrate by getting up to nurse the baby.

The children eat breakfast and then rush outside to make snow angels.

 

Friday, Jan. 22

7:00 AM: The kids and I are home all day for a planned day off of school. Yesterday’s snow has melted, so we amuse ourselves with books, toys, and TV. In anticipation of a potential power outage, I make significant progress on reducing the back up on my DVR.

10:00 AM: My husband calls to say that pork roast is on sale for ninety-nine cents a pound, and should he stop by Safeway on his way home to pick some up. That and sausage. “Better you than me,” I reply.

5:00 PM: I am relieved that all of my loved ones are safe in our home as the record snow fall begins. The heavens dump three inches of snow per hour over the Washington region, stranding people in their homes, cars, and work places. Combined with the whipping wind, the snow causes white-out conditions, and visibility is less than
1/4 mile. I make a pizza, and my family watches “Inside Out.”
Somehow, Sophia doesn’t notice
that she is touching Raymond, and possibly becoming infected with his little brother cooties.

 

 

 

Saturday, Jan. 23

9:00 AM: After a night of waking every two hours to nurse the baby, I emerge from my bedroom to face the day. The children are already up and buzzing about, preparing to venture out into the still falling snow. I help them into snow pants, boots, and mittens, after starting the coffee.

9:50 AM: The children are finally bundled and headed out the door. The baby and I watch from the safety of the family room.

 

11:00 AM: My husband heads out to shovel snow. This proves to be a Herculean effort that might have claimed his life (or at least his back) were it not for the help of some neighbors. Ten minutes after he’s finished, our driveway and sidewalks are again covered in waist-deep snow. My four-year-old celebrates by climbing Snow Mountain and base jumping off of it.

1:25 PM: I realize that I forgot to buy onions at the store. I cannot make spaghetti sauce. With sausage. My husband offers to walk to Safeway. I tell him that’s insane. He sinks into a deep depression. But wait! Forsooth, a neighbor has some onions! She sends her teenage son out into the storm, and my husband meets him in the road. Dinner is saved!

4:09 PM: I email my Pastor to ask if there will be Mass this weekend. He responds that he is already at the church and will hold the vigil Mass tonight, and will do his best to return in the morning. I tell him we will try to come. God laughs at me.

Sunday, Jan. 24

8:30 AM: It is obvious that we are not going to Mass today, or anywhere for that matter. The snow continued to fall through 11:30 PM last night, and our street looks like this:

I prepare for another day indoors with the children and curse myself for not going anywhere on Friday morning when I had the chance. I could’ve picked up the pork and sausage. Why didn’t I pick up the pork and sausage?!

10:00 AM: For the fourth day in a row, I make the children help me with chores that they don’t normally do. They impress me with their commitment to maintaining an energetic complaining regimen throughout the entire exercise, despite having expended so much of their complaining energy during the previous three days.

1:00 PM: Two of them go outside to play in the snow again, and I praise all that is Holy.

1:44 PM: A text from the county alerts me that schools will be closed again tomorrow, surprising no one. I pray that I can get out of the house at some point in the next twenty-four hours.

4:00 PM: We are reduced to a family of savages. Fights over use of the Kindle and the television are frequent and intense. Shouts of “Moooooo-ooooom” can be heard echoing through the halls. As I write this, the children are pawing at my office door attempting to get in. I plan a dinner of chicken tenders and hot chocolate, praying that it somehow soothes their tempers.

6:00 PM: The evening is spent watching more television in pajamas before an early bedtime, aided in part by the darkening winter sky. We will await the snow plow and its glistening steel blades, which may come tomorrow and free us from our home. In the meantime, I thank God that I have shelter, warmth, food, power, helpful neighbors, a hard-working and dedicated husband, and four snuggly children to tuck into bed tonight.

 

 

How did you spend Snowzilla 2016?