Clacking with Julia – The summer season blues

I believe I may have uncovered a new and very serious psychological phenomenon I can only refer to as Seasonal Television Watcher Depression Disorder.

This is far less serious than its cousin, Seasonal Affective Disorder, but no less harrowing. Instead of ennui due to a lack of sunlight, STWDD is characterized by extreme nightly listlessness and endless channel flipping, hoping for something, anything to watch. Symptoms include watching and re-watching everything you’ve ever saved on your DVR and DVDs until you have them practically memorized, way too many re-runs of Mythbusters, and actual, desperate interest in the Miss America pageant because it’s the only minorly amusing thing on television.

I am aware that this sounds like a relatively harmless condition and, in the grand scheme of things, it is. But this doesn’t make it any less real or harrowing. Because chances are, if you’re reading this site, you’re like me, and TV is an essential part of your day.

Whenever I mention my summer season malaise, the person I’m complaining to usually fixes me with a look that communicates exactly how tragic they think my life is that a lack of nightly television is enough to bother me. And no, it doesn’t bother me the way, say, global warming or starving children would, but I don’t think it’s necessarily a sign that my life is shallow and meaningless when I long for nightly television. After all, what is the function of television if not to be something to look forward to every night?

Television is alluring the same way movies, or books, or any form of entertainment is — it’s a way to stop being yourself for however long the show lasts, to transport yourself to a land where your own problems pale in comparison to  this overly dramatized court case or so-and-so’s dating woes or the very real threat that what’s their face might not get their spun sugar robot to move from table A to table B without cracking.

Too often, people view television as frivolous, especially in comparison with other, more stereotypically intellectual forms of escapism. And to be honest, I don’t see why. Television is a way of having a weekly standing date with friends you never have to call or remember their birthdays, and they, in turn, help you forget about the fight you had with your mother or career woes. Unlike a movie, it’s an infinitely unfolding universe, something that goes so far beyond those 90 minute snapshots, and therefore so much easier to get invested in. Books are almost as good as television and far surpass them when it comes to things like deep, intellectual discussion. But let’s be honest, it’s summer. I’m not looking for deep intellectualism. I’m look for light, nightly escapism and sensory immersion, and as utterly enamored as I am with the written word, there’s just no substitute for seeing and hearing the universe you let yourself be briefly part of.  And I miss that feeling. The lack of that feeling depresses me. And it’s not pathetic, it’s a disorder. Which I have personally diagnosed.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to step off my soapbox and make my harrowing choice of the day — Cupcake Wars or Say Yes to the Dress.

Clacked by Julia Hass
on Jun 20, 2011 @ 14:32 EST5EDT