Sunday, April 10, 2016

My Happy Golden Years with Dateline

I don't know why everyone's so desperate to recapture their youth, or stay young, or whatever. Getting older is awesome. You get to complain more, you get to ignore all the improvements and updates in technology, and you get to watch 'Murder, She Wrote' and 'Dateline' as much as you want.

How, how, how have I lived this long without 'Dateline'? How? I am completely obsessed with this show, and this obsession is not making me a better person. I've been doing my part with all the introspective self-improvement, and appreciating the present moment, and have developed a profound love for Eckhart Tolle and everything he stands for. And then I forget all of that the moment the shaky photo frames appear on the television screen, accompanied by a heavy-handed ominous musical score.

'Dateline''s tagline is "Don't watch alone" exclamation point. This is nonsense. You can totally watch the show alone, because it's not that kind of scary. What you should not do is watch the show with me, because I am that kind of scary. Let me count the ways:

1) I become enraged if Keith Morrison is not hosting (but then calm down, because the other people are fine; just less hilariously over-the-top).
2) I start yelling, "The husband (or wife) did it!" before Lester Holt has even introduced the subject matter.
3) If the husband or wife did not do it, the rage returns and I start yelling at 'Dateline'. I genuinely want the husband or wife to have done it.
4) I yell at the incompetent sheriff, detective, local investigator, the accused, friends/family of the accused, prosecuting attorney, defense attorney, and/or jury, depending on who is being the most idiotic. Sometimes, it is all of them.
5) I find myself unconcerned with the welfare of the characters if they are rednecks (it's okay, they won't read this).
6) I am ten times more upset if an animal is killed, along with the victim.

This is not me at my best self.

But, Eckhart Tolle would say, "Resist nothing", and that includes the lure of the shaky photo frames, the ominous music, and Keith Morrison's exaggerated eyebrow furrowing and melodramatic suppositions.