Seen It?

Jews love Curb Your Enthusiasm in the same way Jews loved Seinfeld. Larry David speaks to the Chosen. At dinner in Soho with my cousin and grandpa the other night, my cousin foolishly attempted conversation by asking, “so, do you guys watch Curb?” Apparently an acceptable abbreviation. 

We both shook our heads.

“Not much of a television watcher,” my grandpa explained in his Texas accent. I smiled in agreement. My cousin didn’t know what to do.  Clearly, he expected a different reaction. He’d remind us of an episode vaguely related to our conversation, and we’d all have a laugh at his smart pop culture connection.  He looked a little bit awkward about the whole thing, but I expertly changed the topic because this happens all the time. I, too, am not a tv watcher. I don’t have the attention span.  I’m not one to download episodes on Hulu or binge on tv on DVD.  I don’ t care that Mad Men is about to start up again or that Maya Rudolph is starring in some new show. My grandpa’s admission of the same was validation. At least it’s a familial thing, weirdos in it together. 

Many women fake things.  I fake tv lust for the sake of romance.  In college, you went to a boy’s dorm room to watch a movie—an activity that required no awkward conversation but got you sitting close together.  But time was cheap in college. In the real world, a 22-minute episode serves the same purpose in a quarter of the time, and everyone’s asleep by midnight.  So, I fake tv lust.

I dated a man who was into the show Party Down.  Walking through the subway tunnel at Union Square, my two girlfriends were talking about 30 Rock.  I hadn’t said anything for a while because I’ve only seen half of two episodes.  Finally, I piped up, trying to reinsert myself into the conversation:  

“Hey, have you guys seen Party Down?”

They stopped dead in the middle of the crowded tunnel.

“Are you kidding?”

“We’ve been seriously telling you to watch Party Down for months, and you’ve completely ignored us. Then, some guy tells you to watch it and you’re asking us if we watch Party Down. This is bad even for you.”

Yeah, I can see why that would be annoying.

I cowered in feminist shame for succumbing to the suggestion of a man when I’d rejected that same suggestion from my girlfriends. They formed a battering ram around me and berated me. I think we missed our train.

People are constantly telling me which shows I really should watch.

“Seriously, you’d love The Wire. It’s about education in the inner city.”

“Seriously, you’d love Parks and Rec. Amy Poehler is amazing. It’s totally your sense of humor.”

Thanks, but no thanks. Not the point. I always appreciate the suggestions—the attempt at personalizing these popular shows for me.  The fact of the matter is that I really just don’t watch tv.  Just like I really don’t eat meat. You can’t force it. 

My aversion to tv is not a pretentious one.  I can easily spend embarrassing amounts of time on Facebook or my favorite blog (hotguysreadingbooks.tumblr.com).  Trust me, when you’re watching Friday Night Lights, I am rarely reading Chekhov.   

A few weeks ago, I was at the gym and scored a machine with a tv.  While sweating and channel surfing, I came across a show that was actually pretty funny and ended up watching the whole episode. A rare occurrence.  A side effect to not watching tv is that I tend to be out of touch with some elements of pop culture. Excited about my hot find, I came home and asked Majken:

“Have you seen this new show How I Met Your Mother?”

She looked at me, stunned.

“That came out seven years ago.”