I Long For You Night And Day, Your Pain Was My Pleasure, Your Sorrow My Joy, I Feel Now I've Lost You To Health And Good Cheer
One would imagine that seeing four Red Sox games at Fenway in a month's time would be what is making me excited now. But, in truth, nothing matches the expectation of finally having Amy back in my life.
After what seemed an interminable wait, my current favorite show is back on the air. Once again I'm able to visit Colorado without having to ever leave the comfort of home. During the wait I've had time to ponder why exactly I consider this the finest show on the air and it's taking me a bit to come up with a concise the answer. The most succinct manner in which I can describe it is that all my favorite shows, whether one is talking about Avonlea, Buffy, or Everwood, have shared the undeniable trait of mixing the humor with the sadness. It's a delicate balance to maintain, but when it works it works like gangbusters. I don't know--perhaps I'm one of those rare individuals that revels in other's misery, but I've been kind of jonesing for this show if only because I can count on the drama to put me in a happy place. Yes, I do get my share of drama on the other "can't miss" shows I have during the week like 24 or Veronica Mars, but those kind of shows always seem to draw their drama from hyper-realistic situations. It's all well and good to be excited by the situations, but they lack the conviction of being situation that very well may happen to me.
Everwood is different in that respect. This show always either reminds me of something I too went through or puts me in a frame of mind where, but for the grace, I very well could have been. The sadness, the feelings, that this fine show stirs in me always originates from a point of familiarity. The sad fact is I always seem to do my best thinking and have my best reflections when prompted by a tale of woe. Be it the star-crossed path of love taken by Amy and Ephram, the struggle by Andy of rectifying past mistakes, or even the simple missteps of first love undertaken by Hannah and Bright--there's enough fodder for the angst and melancholy of everyday life that seems to be a motif in my writing.
I really am only happy when it rains. I cannot abide simple stories and there is nothing simple about the plotlines that run through any episode. Subtlety, depth, and nuance take on whole new levels when it comes to the show and I cannot think of a better example of fine programming than Everwood.
I fell for you my darling dear
Maybe there's something twisted about me to get this giddy over someone else's misfortune. I've often contemplated the notion that I'm drawn to these shows because they bring forth a vindictive and often masochistic instinct in me. I really do think a part of me doesn't feel real unless I'm blue or mildly worried in some way. Somehow when I'm totally fulfilled and happy, I feel less connected to the world at large. When things are going well I have almost a sense of disconnection, that all the events that are currently happening aren't real. It's much like when one goes to see a movie and one gets caught up in the action on screen. Sometimes one feels like all the joys the characters are experience are happening to oneself. That's how I feel. All these accomplishments and milestones don't feel like they're happening to me. They feel attached to someone else whose identity I'm just borrowing.
But the pain and the tears, those are all mine.
People always say that misery loves company, but to me feeling blue is a personal thing. I get the sense that nobody experiences my sorrow quite like me. I plow my way through suffering in a fashion wholly conceived and executed by me. Like somebody else said, nobody knows the trouble I've seen... nobody knows my sorrow.
I think that's more precisely why I like the show. It isn't just the fact that it presents the beauty of inbetween days, those days when the world isn't exactly crashing around you, but also when the world isn't exactly filled with rainbows. What I like about the show is the fact that it kind of understands my pain and reflects it back to me. Maybe I don't like seeing other people in pain as much as I like knowing that there are other people hurting just as much and for similar reasons as me.
So, yeah, being made sad, in a strange way, makes me happy.