Re-ran my reruns
You do not have to watch much television to understand the prevalence of shows that have previously aired being run over and over and over. This is called being in syndication and once they get into that avenue, they seem to take on a life of their own.
No one can argue with the popularity of shows that have remained on the 3,577 channels now available and television shows dating back to the 1950’s are still as popular today as the day they were aired if not more so. There is something about the human soul that likes predictability and even Ol’ Dutch finds solace in the old “Andy Griffith” and “Green Acres” shows so much to the point that I can often quote it word for word as it is shown.
Other shows like the sitcom Friends and Seinfeld also have an almost cult-like following and remain popular even though people have seen all the episodes and have even bought copies of them to view at their pleasure. Even Ol’ Dutch has some series on CD like “Band of Brothers” which is a classic and realistic portrayal of the Greatest Generation. Everyone needs to see that once to appreciate what men of that era went through to protect the world from absolute tyranny.
But anywho, no matter how many of the short sitcoms I do watch on a regular basis, Miss Trixie has latched onto a couple of shows of unbearable length and it is about to drive Ol’ Dutch to distraction.
One is the musical “Hamilton.” And even though I am hard of hearing enough that I cannot hear the words, it has this constant drumming sound that sounds like my kids banging around on stuff when they were little. You know the sound. Not enough to drive you insane but just in the background with some off rhythm that makes no sense to a parent's brain and finally results in an explosion of your patience.
So over and over and over I get to see them sing and dance and wear wigs and such and that's just the men. And the banging for effect at each sentence they speak. And try as I might, I cannot get Miss Trixie to come off her “Hamilton” fix so I suffer in not so much silence as you can imagine.
But finally, I think she sought some sort of clinical treatment or maybe her friends did an intervention on her, but she moved onto another show called “Downtown Abbey.” This is a never-ending series about a bunch of Britishers who talk, talk, talk. You have never heard people talk so much. So much so that it is more than people do in real life. Ol’ Dutch does hear bits and pieces of what is said, and they did have a little bit of WWI on there which at least had some action but mostly it is just talking and talking and talking which makes me realize now why my ancestors fought to get rid of King and country those many long years ago. I mean enough already.
I think she is on episode 11 of season 3,455 or something like that and I fear that it will last into fall. Thankfully of which I will be saved from further non-stop yakking by those foreigners by the beginning of elk season. Thank the Lord.
Now like I said, Ol’ Dutch does watch a few of the old sitcoms during the long winter months but always with my laptop open as there are not many shows that can hold a man’s attention for the whole 30 minutes. Which is why the remote control was invented so that we can change the channel every commercial and watch parts of another show we have already seen a hundred times.
I am not sure how they convinced the American public to be satisfied with re-runs for most of the year but it's a great concept and I guess our putting up with that is akin to Miss Trixie putting up with Ol’ Dutch. Sometimes it's just better to live with the poison you are used to rather than switch and risk certain death.
So tonight, just to have Miss Trixie at least take a break from her current binge watching of her show, Ol’ Dutch is going to pop in another Clint Eastwood movie which of course never grows old. And maybe just maybe that will "Make my day."
Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected]. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com.