Jazz Hands

I have little interest in the Tonys.

Sure, I like theater. Even musical theater. I saw Billy Elliott when I was in New York in January. I'm a big Avenue Q fan. I'm even a fan of award shows in general (particularly the Emmys for obvious reasons). But the Tonys? I can pass on those.

Unless I hear a "...with your host, Neil Patrick Harris!"

Well, okay, I still didn't watch the Tonys this past Sunday night. I had better things to do, like go to sleep early since I'd been up since 6 a.m. But I digress. I did manage to see a few clips of NPH's hosting duties (the only part of the show I really cared about-- I haven't seen The Book of Mormon, so what do I care that they won everything?) and this was my particular favorite:



My new favorite rap star? Maybe not, but that's some impressive work, considering that whole thing was written and learned during the live broadcast.

Oh, NPH. What can't you do?

The Good Fight

The current US Attorney General, Eric Holder, has had just about enough. His favorite show is no longer on the air, you see, and he can't abide a world without The Wire. Well, rather, he thinks the show had a great anti-drug message and he'd like to see more of it. So of course he's implored the creators to keep creating-- "I want another season or I want a movie. I have a lot of power, Mr. Burns and Mr. Simon," he said.

Well, shit. Is it that easy? Just enlist someone in a position of power to bring back from the dead your erstwhile favorite television show? Could a Supreme Court Justice court Mitch Hurtwitz to hurry up with that Arrested Development movie already? Could Bono get me another season of Veronica Mars? Could Nathan Fillion champion bringing back Firefly? (Oh, wait.)

I'm not holding my breath. There doesn't seem to be much hope of getting great shows back on the air when we can't get terrible ones off it, like this man who threatened to blow up his local TV station if they didn't cool it with the incessant reruns of Two And A Half Men. I hear ya, buddy, but your brand of crazy doesn't help the cause.

Alas, we'll probably just have to accept that The Wire's dead and gone, the Arrested Development movie may never happen and Nathan's never, ever going to buy the rights to Firefly. But I have hope that one day we'll live in a nation where Two And A Half Men only airs once each weekday instead of 'round the clock.

Hey, a girl can dream.

¿Dónde Está la Biblioteca?

I'm seeing Donald Glover at Variety Playhouse on Friday. Despite the fact that practically his whole tour (aptly named the IAMDONALD tour) is sold out, the conversations all seem to go a little like this:

"I'm seeing Donald Glover at Variety. You know, Troy from Community. The black guy on Community. That other show that comes on NBC Thursday nights."

Even so, I'm excited.

If you, like most everyone else, find yourself unfamiliar with Donald Glover (or his rap alter-ego, Childish Gambino), check out the videos below or his prolific Twitter stream.





I'll report back. I'm guessing it'll be fantastic.

Potpourri

Instead of writing lately, I’ve been doing a lot of reading—and watching, and listening, et cetera et cetera et cetera. It’s a big internet out there, kids, and there’s lots to do. Here are some things that have piqued my interest of late.

The Life In A Day Trailer

Is your heart warmed? Mine is (a little). I’m unsure how this kind of footage could sustain more than an aww-inducing trailer, but we’ll see.

This Brian Williams Article

My long-standing crush on Brian Williams is well known and never-ending. In January, on a tour of the NBC studios in New York, I even got to sit in his chair (he was not, unfortunately, also in said chair). This article makes me love him even more. If you aren’t familiar with B Dub’s comedy, I’m not sure where you’ve been for the past few years—the smirky anchor has hosted SNL and made numerous appearances on the likes of 30 Rock and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. Slow Jammin’ the News? That’s my jam.

Paul F. Tompkins American Idol Recaps
Do you watch American Idol? Of course you don’t, because it hasn’t been topical or culturally relevant in years. If you do watch it, surely you do so in a haze of boozy intoxication as you play the Official TT.TKO American Idol Drinking Game. In any case, Paul F. Tompkins has been saddled with the sad obligation of watching this season’s American Idol, so you don’t have to. His recaps on New York Magazine’s entertainment site, Vulture, are much more thrilling than actually sitting through the show, and you can drink while you read them just as easily.

The New Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows, Part II Trailer

Go ahead and watch it. I’ll wait. Did you just get chills? I kind of can’t remember much about the latter half of the seventh book—it’s long, and I’ve only read it twice. But I will definitely be in line for the midnight show on July 15th—possibly wearing my Hufflepuff tie (don’t hate)—for this last installment.

Tom Haverfoods and Ron Swanson's Turkey Burger

Eventually the internet and TV will merge into one sentient being, but for now they just link up every so often to make me happy. Last week’s Parks and Recreation featured the inimitable Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman) describing his idea of a turkey burger—a fried turkey leg inside a grilled hamburger patty, which sounds impossible but was no match for the internet, who made it a reality. Well, Eater.com did, specifically. The episode also featured a segment of Tom Haverford (Aziz Ansari) detailing his numerous and varied nicknames for foods, which now exists in convenient website form. You can even submit your own! My favorite may be “butter boats.”

Lastly, I’d like to add that the pinnacle of my existence (aside from an epic kickball win last weekend) came recently in the form of a trivia question that allowed me to utilize my knowledge of the names of both actors who played Darren Stevens on TV’s Bewitched (Dicks York and Sargeant, if you were, like the other unsuspecting trivia teams, unsure). Now you see, hard work does pay off.

On The Big Screen

You've heard the rumors. Mere seconds after a television show's cancellation, the loyal fanbase stops sending millions of little bottles of Tabasco sauce and starts spreading the word that there's gonna be a movie.

Did the showrunner say in an interview that he or she planned to make a movie follow up? Doesn't matter. It's gonna happen. And the more rabid the fanbase, the louder the rumor.

Are any of these rumors legit? Who knows. But they certainly are loud.

Arrested Development


Why it will never happen: Think how many really talented people have to come together to make this movie a reality. As far as I’ve heard, nobody except Michael Cera has expressed hesitance, but Arrested Development was a magic constellation of awesome the first time. Think about how difficult it is to organize dinner out with a few of your friends from different groups. And let’s face it, your friends are nowhere near as awesome or in demand as the cast and crew of AD.

Why it will be awesome if it does: This show was violently ripped from the airwaves before many people, myself included, even got around to watching it. Network interference crippled the final season, and while the big-screen treatment might change the dynamic of the show, at least they’d have the freedom to do whatever the hell they wanted. Plus, The People Of The Internet would finally shut up about it. I'd chalk that up as a win.

Pop Culture Time Machine

There’s no hot tub in this time machine.

Mikey and Mattie spoke once about what they would do if they had a time machine, what they would travel back in time to see or do. I think Matt said he’d witness something boring and historical and Michael decided to travel back and buy up all the Apple stock or something.

Well, my time machine is a little different. I’d be down for getting rich, and it wouldn’t be so terrible to see history in the making, but I want to bear witness to another kind of history being made—pop cultural history.

Like, what kind of music fan would I be if I failed to use my time machine to go see the Beatles play in their prime. Seeing them on Ed Sullivan would be cool--and little Sally Draper certainly seemed excited when dad Don got her tickets to their Shea Stadium show--but cooler still would be seeing them play in a tiny club in Liverpool, or some other English city that I’d have to look up on a map, before they hit it big. It helps that I love early Beatles as much as the late, more experimental Beatles—I wouldn’t have to fight the crowds.

I’ve long said that if I had a time machine, I would go back in time and steal Courteney Cox’s famous early role in Bruce Springsteen’s video for Dancing In The Dark. I mean, how cool would that be? I can dance like it’s 1984, even if I wasn’t quite born yet. And seeing the Boss play one of my favorites long before he started sounding and acting like a Baptist preacher onstage? Priceless.

What else shall I do with this newfound ability to bend time to my will? I’ve written before about the painful reality of TV shows cancelled before their time. Maybe I could go back and spread the word—“Watch Firefly!” I’d shout from the streets. “Check out Freaks & Geeks,” I’d cry. “Veronica Mars rules!” People would listen to me, you see, because I’m from The Future. After fixing these egregious crimes against culture, I’d turn my attention to other television snafus—the repeated renewal of shows that really should have already died. Scrubs and Gilmore Girls both would have been slashed from the air before their abysmal final seasons. Seventh Heaven need never have existed.

After ensuring the future of TV was a bright one, I’d move on to movies. What would it be like to be in the audience of one of the very first films ever? Even if it did mean you had to leap from your seat to the floor so the train didn’t hit you. I could see each and every classic movie when it was released, on the big screen, among others unspoiled by the internet and cynicism. I could discover along with the rest of the audience just who Luke’s father actually was or what Rosebud did, in fact, represent.

There are so many choices, so I hope my time machine is reusable. If not, I may have to go to the Apple stock route. After all, for the money that would net me today, I could buy myself a role in a Springsteen video. And still have money leftover to order a pizza. Sounds like a steal to me.

The Most Dangerous Game[s]

You know how chocolate is pretty awesome? And peanut butter is also pretty awesome? But peanut butter M&Ms are really awesome? This is kind of like that.

I love TV. You're shocked, I'm sure. Another shocking fact-- I also love drinking. Combine the two, and you've pretty much got the best Thursday night ever.

If you want to hear what Mikey and Mattie have to say about drinking games, consult the Plastercast episode of TT.TKO. But I know you really want to hear what I have to say. My favorite kind of drinking games are ones played along with TV shows. I prefer to play with beer, but that's just because I'm a beer girl. Use your judgment. Just don't blame me for the wretched hangover you get from pounding a shot of Jager every time House is sarcastic. Not my problem. You should've known better.

Law & Order: SVU
1. Drink whenever someone says the word “rape.”
2. Drink whenever they do something in a lab or on a computer that probably can't actually be done in real life.
3. Drink whenever Stabler blows up at someone or gets angry.
4. Drink whenever they play the “BUM BUM” noise.
5. Two drinks whenever it turns out it was the first suspect after all.

American Idol
1. Drink whenever Randy says something completely nonsensical.
2. Drink whenever a contestant tears up; take a bonus drink if they start crying.
3. Two drinks whenever a contestant uses their sad backstory to garner votes.
4. Drink whenever you miss Paula.
5. Finish your beer whenever Simon isn’t wearing a V-neck.*
*This can be adapted to whatever obnoxious habits the new judges have, which I’m sure will be numerous and varied.


30 Rock
1. Drink whenever Jack calls Liz "Lemon."
2. Drink whenever Kenneth does something that totally stereotypes the South but is still pretty funny.
3. Two drinks whenever they try to act like Tina Fey isn't actually pretty hot.
4. Finish your beer whenever Tracey makes complete and total sense.


How I Met Your Mother
1. Drink whenever Bob Saget’s voiceover says “Kids...”
2. Drink whenever Lily and Marshall are sickeningly cute.
3. Drink whenever Ted says something douchey and pretentious.
4. Drink whenever they drink.
5. Finish your beer if Alan Thicke appears.


Two and a Half Men
1. Drink whenever you want to change the channel.*
2. Drink whenever you can guess the punchline before the characters get to it.
3. Two drinks whenever you get angry about Jon Cryer actually winning an Emmy for this dreck.
 *Warning: You will end up completely plastered.


Sounds like a blast, right? You pick up the beer; I'll program the TiVo. Cheers!

I Just Can't Get You Out Of My Head

You know how it can be kind of annoying when you get a song in your head and just can’t get it out? How about when having that song in your head means you’ll be replaying entire episodes of classic TV shows in your mind for days on end?

Okay, there are worse fates. But isn't it funny how, years and years later, these songs and their lyrics stick with us like the state capitals or the elements of the Periodic Table never really could? 

For some reason it's alarmingly hard to find videos of the actual intros to some of these shows on YouTube. Apparently watching theme songs for nostalgia purposes is damaging to a given media conglomerate's bottom line and must be stamped out with haste. In any case, here's a sampling of the theme songs I'll never, ever forget:

1. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

This song is an instant classic.Who can't identify with the Fresh Prince? There were guys who were up to no good making trouble in my neighborhood, too.

It helps that Bel Air-ing is my favorite internet meme since the Rickroll came on the scene. I guess I prefer my memes laden with cheesy 80’s pop, but if that's wrong, I don't want to be right.

2. Saved By The Bell

 Saved By The Bell was my absolute favorite throughout childhood (and let's face it, my favorite on those early high school mornings, too). My first crush that wasn't on Dale from Rescue Rangers was on Zack Morris. I dressed as Kelly Kapowski for Halloween two years ago. But this song and its 80's-tastic intro probably ranks as the most memorable thing about the show to me.

Incidentally, if you want to listen to Mikey and Mattie yell at each other about whether Saved By The Bell or Fresh Prince is the best, we've got you covered.

3. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Yum, pizza. And Michaelangelo is best BTW.

4. Doug

Not be confused with the later version, after Doug moved to Disney and everyone started looking kind of funny and Patti Mayonnaise became tanorexic. Apparently any and all videos of the real Doug theme have been tragically stricken from YouTube. This is probably for the same reason that Doug is one of the only NickToons Netflix doesn't carry, and thus life is a cruel joke.

While we're specifically only discussing theme songs, I do want to give a shout out to such classic Doug tunes as "I Need Mo' Allowance," by the Beets, and "Bangin' On A Trash Can," by Doug, et al. They're on my iPod (for jamming purposes) and should probably be on yours, too.

5. Duck Tales

The Duck Tales theme is probably my favorite of the bunch, and I've been known to have frequent Duck Tales Dance Parties in my car. But who can resist that catchy melody? The "quack quack quack quack"? The "woo oo"? I defy you to listen to this song without at least humming along, if not totally rocking out.

I mean, come on. After all, life is like a hurricane.

Re: Fight Club

Who wouldn't want to punch this face?

Gone Too Soon

I think you may have figured out that I'm a bit of a television fan. I prefer to watch series in order, never missing a single episode. It's the plight of the purist, but it's made much easier by TV on DVD, the internet and my BFF, Netflix.

My latest Netflix conquest has been Sports Night, a half-hour comedy/drama by Aaron Sorkin (The West Wing, the new film The Social Network) that ran on ABC for two pitch-perfect seasons before being canned for low ratings. It marries two of my favorite things-- sports and TV-- and features stellar writing and a killer cast.

So what happened? Why did this show only tough it out for two seasons, while other more mediocre ones last for years? Well, I'm not a television executive, just a nerdy viewer, so hell if I know. I do know that I have a tendency to fall for shows just like this.

Take a sitcom called Kitchen Confidential. You've never seen this show. How do I know this? Because Fox ran a mere four of its thirteen ordered episodes before pulling it off the air. Fox has a violent, bloody history with good TV, favoring instead reality programming about sharks finding love or something. Kitchen Confidential (based on Anthony Bourdain's fantastic book by the same name) got off to a slow start, but by the fourth aired episode, I was laughing out loud, as were my college roommates. It never had the chance to find its audience. Maybe it never would have-- this is no Arrested Development: don't get me wrong, there's a reason why it's not a cult favorite all these years later-- but viewers never had the chance to discover it.

A fledgling series should certainly be given time to come into its own, find its niche, find its audience-- but how much time? If a show hasn't established itself as a ratings-getter within five episodes, should it be canceled? Thirteen episodes? A whole season? There are rumblings right now that Fox (oh Fox, you cut-throat bastard of broadcast networks) is planning to pull Lone Star off the air after only one episode. (Ed. note: Lone Star wound up being canceled after two episodes.) That certainly seems unfair, but what is? TV is a business, after all.

Another issue at hand-- let's say a show is allowed more than four episodes to find an audience, and it does, albeit a small one. How do you determine if a show was truly taken before its time? My perennial favorite Veronica Mars had gone significantly downhill by its third season, which turned out to be its last. Should it have stayed on the air on the promise that creator Rob Thomas could deliver a better fourth, which was set to jump forward in time and feature Veronica in the FBI Academy? Likewise, Arrested Development's run consisted of three solid seasons. Sure, it was never recognized or acclaimed like it is today, never got its due, but is it better that the show ended while it was still near its peak?

Both of the aforementioned series had stumbled in varying degrees before their cancellations, but there are plenty of examples of shows that were going strong, at least creatively, and yet never made it out alive. One doesn't have to scour the internet to find anger and righteous indignation over the tragically short run of Joss Whedon's space western, Firefly. The fans carried on so much that he was able to make a movie tying up loose ends (Serenity)-- thankfully, since the original series was treated like a ginger stepchild. Ten of the fourteen episodes were aired, not in the intended order, with unexplained gaps in between. Time slots were shifted without notice. Advertising was practically non-existent. Is it any surprise that Firefly's home was with Fox?

And what about Freaks & Geeks? Possibly the most egregious example I can think of, as it was pulled after only 12 of 18 ordered episodes had aired despite being a truly incredible show in all aspects. Entertainment Weekly named it the 13th best series of the past 25 years in spite of its short run, and I can't disagree. It's television tragedy that shows like this never seem to last, while others are rewarded for their lowest-common-denominator humor and writing.

Take the WB/CW's Seventh Heaven, for instance. It ran for a whopping 10 seasons and was cancelled with plenty of notice for showrunner Brenda Hampton (Secret Life of the American Teenager) to wrap up whatever endings she needed to. Then the finale, which the network advertised as a series finale, welcomed good ratings. So they brought the damn thing back! In fact, its eleventh-hour, eleventh-season renewal was directly responsible for the cancellation of a show I enjoyed and found to be much better in all ways, Everwood. Where is the justice in this world?

It's fortunate that in this age of archival, these shows aren't lost or forgotten. On the one hand, websites like Hulu and the proliferation of TV on DVD make it easy to discover such cancelled gems. On the other hand, what a pain it is to find a show that's really quality, only to find out there exist a mere 14 episodes, or 22 or even 64-- it never feels like enough. You'll always feel cheated out of the plotlines that never were.

This unfairness, it's really just a fact of life. There are more movie blockbusters cobbled together with explosions and boobs than there are incredibly-crafted indies. Dan Brown books are best-sellers. Some of the best things will always fly under the radar, and you don't have to be a skinny-jean-clad hipster to appreciate that maybe that's for the best. I know I have more of an attachment to some of these shows that really never got any credit. They're the ones I pimp out to friends, recommend to strangers and watch over and over. I think I'm to blame for no less than 15 different cases of Veronica Mars fever, for which the prescription isn't cowbell, but instead hours and hours of trying to figure out who killed Lilly Kane before our intrepid protagonist. If these excellent shows had run for eight seasons apiece, would the desire to get them whatever accolades I can still be there? Maybe. But at Dragon*Con this year, the line for the Firefly panel (featuring four of the lead actors) was the longest I saw all weekend, and was full of over-excited fans wearing Jayne hats. Not too shabby for a 14-episode series that went off the air seven years back. Fans of these kinds of things are enduring.

It's tempting in this TV climate to refuse to start watching a show until it has a proven record of not being canceled. I wouldn't fault anyone who waited until a series came out on DVD or on Netflix InstantWatch before giving it a shot. But I'm willing to start out a promising show even if I know it'll be ripped away from me before I'm ready. Sometimes that's the price you have to pay for true quality.

You Know What I Love... A**hole doctors on TV

I was sitting back enjoying a recently obtained season of Scrubs before meeting up with Matt on a Skype call and something clicked. What is it with a**hole doctors on television that I find so fascinating? I am sure it is some combination of wit, sarcasm and their ability to still be the hero but it can't be just that. I am really referencing two characters specifically, Dr. Gregory House (House) and Dr. Perry Cox (Scrubs).

These doctors have multiple things in common: both share a substance abuse problem (then again who doesn't), they constantly beat up on their underlings, there is a power struggle with their bosses, neither shows any belief in a higher power and each have some rather bizarre personal relationships. I know there are more but those seem to be the bigger ones. Of course there are drastic differences: children, limps, ability to work with patients, trips to rehab... you get the drill.

This was probably a poor choice to write about because I have no remarkable conclusion. All the doctors that I have encountered have been rather friendly. There have been no crazy long rants or intense metaphors. Maybe I like them because I have never seen anything quite like Dr. House or Dr. Cox before. Well, unless you look at the other one. Damn assholes...

The Weekend Edition

What's Friday night for you these days? Date night? How about Saturday evening? Another night doing shots at the bar with your friends, or perhaps a tasteful grown-up party, complete with canapé and chardonnay? But it wasn't always that way. There was a time when, once the weekend rolled around, that meant it was time to pop the popcorn and settle in for a long night of quality television. Two of them, in fact. I am, of course, talking about ABC's TGIF and Nickelodeon's Snick.

TGIF started first, way back in 1989. I was 4, and probably not watching a whole lot of Full House quite yet. The iteration I know best began in the 1993 season with Family Matters, Step By Step, Boy Meets World and Hangin' With Mr. Cooper (which I don't actually remember ever watching-- maybe 9:30 was my bedtime at 8 years old). In the following years, the line-up fluctuated, introducing us to classics and one-season wonders alike: Sabrina The Teenage Witch, Dinosaurs, Teen Angel and several more that lasted such a short time that I can't even name them.

According to ABC's fall schedule, Friday nights in the 2010-2011 season will be filled by a show called Secret Millionaire (sounds like an instant hit, what with "millionaire" in the title), another hour-long called Body Of Proof (let me guess-- it's about dead bodies and evidence and justice and some law and maybe a little order, too, if there's time), followed by everybody's grandmother's favorite show, 20/20. Sounds like a party. No wonder our generation drinks a lot-- our weekend TV choices have gone significantly downhill. To be fair, though, 20/20 has filled the 10 o'clock hour of ABC's Friday night since 1987. We just stay awake a hell of a lot later these days. ABC can't really be blamed for our skewed sleep schedules.

So Friday night, oh what a night. But I always looked forward even more to Saturdays. Snick premiered in 1992 with Clarissa Explains It All, Ren & Stimpy, Roundhouse and Are You Afraid Of The Dark. Favorites, all. I loved the shows that began in the ensuing years, too-- The Adventures of Pete & Pete, The Secret World of Alex Mack, The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo (somebody got a little formulaic with their titling, eh?), All That, Kenan & Kel, Space Cases (starring a pre-Firefly Jewel Staite on-- you guessed it-- another spaceship). And who could forget that iconic orange couch?

(Incidentally, Nickelodeon ran a contest in 2002 and apparently gave away the couch in question, filled with $25,000 and 6000 cookies, which means that I definitely quit watching Snick a few years too early, because that would have been totally awesome to win. However-- think of the crumbs!)

Based on sheer number of quality (or at least, nostalgia-inducing) shows alone, Snick wins by a landslide. Boy Meets World really carried TGIF for me. Would anyone from our generation pick our childhood Fridays over Saturdays? I defy you to find that person and bring them to me, so I can sit them down and make them watch my Pete & Pete DVDs until they see the truth.

In any case, our grown-up weekends will never really compare. I love drink specials and dancing as much as anyone, but I'm not sure if it would quite get the approval of the Midnight Society. They're a tough crowd to please, you know.

Better Living Through Television

How do you take your TV? It was only a few years ago that the only option was to watch a show week to week, setting your VCR when you weren't going to be home, or hoping to catch reruns during summer hiatus. Now thanks to the rise of TV-on-DVD and websites like Hulu (not to mention the fact that you can find a torrent of almost any TV show ever made), it's easier than ever to be a television fan, a completist, a purist. I am all of these things. If I miss an episode of a show I'm a fan of, I won't watch subsequent episodes until I'm caught up. This separates me from the ranks of the casual TV viewers, and probably irritates my roommates, as our DVR fills up with episode after episode of 30 Rock, just because I missed the third show of the season.

But what's the ideal way to view a season of television, anyway? Watching it week to week has its merits: the anticipation builds, and you get seven days to mull over details and wonder where plotlines are headed. And don't forget the fact that week-to-week is how television is intended to be watched-- the writers plan storylines around hiatuses and sweeps months, and write cliffhangers specifically to build up that anticipation and create suspense.

But it's sometimes so nice to have an unwatched, pristine season of television waiting for you in your Netflix queue, or on a borrowed DVD set. You can lose track of the hours as you watch episode after episode. If one is less than stellar? Who cares! It's not like you waited longer to watch it than the time it took to change the disc. You can forgive a lot more flaws if you view something all in one go, which means you might be left with a better impression of a show. Case in point: Veronica Mars season 3, generally hated by fans, wasn't so bad for me when I watched it in one two-day bender. It's not the best season of television ever, and it pales in comparison to the near-flawless season 1, but I still generally enjoy it. Had I watched it week by week when it was still on the air, I might not feel so generous.

But still I'm torn. Friday Night Lights (the other best-show-you've-probably-never-seen) has just returned to NBC's lineup. The entire fourth season already aired on DirecTV, thanks to a dual-sponsorship situation, so I could easily torrent all the episodes and devour them at once. I even started to-- I watched the first three or four earlier this spring on my computer. But then I decided that maybe such a high-quality show deserves to be watched as intended. My plan is to view it weekly, savoring both the episodes and the in-between. Maybe that's the way television should be watched.

But more likely, I'll let the shows pile up on my DVR and stay up 'til 6 a.m. one night late in the season, each time promising myself just one...more...episode before sleep. Will I enjoy it any less? Probably not. But then, it's Friday Night Lights. Clear eyes; full hearts; can't lose.

Any arguments either way? I suppose the only conclusion I've reached for myself is that I love really excellent TV, and I'll take it however I can get it. Is there a right way and a wrong way to watch TV for you?