I am not a great fan of television at the best of times, and apart from SBS and ABC, Sydney television is little more than mental candy floss for those who don't care who runs the country, as long as they are white and know who won the footy Grand Final in 1957.Recently I have had the opportunity to watch a few late night episodes of Sex and The City, something I previously had no desire to do - especially when it was broadcast earlier in the evening.
At the risk of sounding totally unhip and unsophisticated - what a load of old cobblers.
A bunch of up themselves wanabee sheilas with personalities about as endearing as a stunned mullet on valium, taking home more baggage than a Heathrow baggage handler, being bonked by a non-stop stream of men who all look the same and share the same hairdresser and alleged fashion sense.
Of course the content, fashion and perceived social status of the characters, automatically entitles the show to be labeled "sophisticated." If they were paid up members of the Beer-And-Bingo club having a few stouts in a local boozer, they wouldn't be marketed as sophisticated women about town - but as the village bicycles. I reckon that if you want to have an active, no holds barred sex-life, better make sure you are middle-class in order to be socially acceptable.
If I watch TV, I want to be challenged, entertained, enlightened or made to laugh. I don't want to sit half an hour so in the company of a bunch of selfish little gits like Carrie Bradshaw or the male equivalent, the totally unfunny Seinfeld, both of whom were sold by slick marketing hype to an audience of terminally impressionable couch potatoes who think it oh-so-chic to waffle on about Soup Nazi's and the sexual exploits of a gang of women who are so physically unappealing, (unless you count the effects of six hours with a beautician every day as glamorous), would be hard pressed to find a one night stand at the Wangamoroo Bowling Club's karaoke night.
While we are on the subject of American sitcoms, we are towards the end of the non-ratings season or,"Silly Season" in Sydney, so we are inundated with never-quite-made it American sitcoms and reruns such as SATC.
Why do all young Americans seem to live in the same apartment and endlessly meet up at the same coffee shop? It doesn't matter which show I seem to catch a glimpse of - there they are, sitting in the same coffee shop as those in the previous program.
Another thing - few of their friends seem to announce their arrival. Friends or relatives continuously come through the front door, straight into the lounge room without even a ding-dong or knock-knock.
Of course according to the law of Sitcom, once they are lawfully joined respectable professionals who live in a simple little seven bedroomed house with a double garage, split level living rooms, a baseball loving son with a 1970s hair-cut and a teenage daughter who is perpetually pouting, which is not surprising after being subjected to non stop home-spun wisdom from a mother who 15 years earlier, had been going home with any guy who could romance her with a socially acceptable job title.
TV comedy - I can turn it off - just like that!
Wherever you may be - be safe
Copyright Mike Hitchen Online, Lane Cove, NSW, Australia. All rights reserved
