TV Helped Ruin My Life

Okay, that's a rather extreme statement, but it makes sense in relation to the rest of the post, so keep reading and you'll see what I mean.

Also, for the purposes of this post, please read the following in Daniel Stern's voice.  If you don't know who Daniel Stern is, click here.

Ruth and I binge-watched Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared a while ago, and since then, they've both remained in my Netflix queue as go-to shows to watch whenever I want something on in the background.  They're great shows - evocative of nostalgia yet hilarious for the outrageous situations the characters find themselves in.  Never wholly unreasonable; they're shows that demonstrate realistic situations and a mix of both extreme and realistic reactions to said situations.

But for me, the best of these shows has and always will be The Wonder Years.

It's a strange choice, I'll grant you, as I didn't live in that era (1968 to 1973), but it was more that the characters in the show were living the same years I was when it was on.  When the show premiered in 1988 I was ending 5th grade and going into 6th...  Making the leap from grade-school to middle-school, and all the insanity that is involved with that time of life.  Kevin (you know the show, you know who I'm talking about, don't pretend you don't) was starting 7th grade and entering middle school as well.  Sure, his character was a year older than me, but for some reason this big-haired, nerdy kid was one that I could identify with in more ways than I could count, and thus the show resonated with me.

Kevin had his Paul, the more-geeky best friend, and I had John, my similarly geeky best friend.  Kevin was the youngest of three children, with one brother and one sister, and I, too, was the youngest child with an older brother and sister.  Kevin had Winnie, and I had my own version.  Kevin wasn't ever one of the popular kids, despite all his efforts to try to be, and I was hopelessly relegated to a hanger-on, also.

It was like the producers had made a show about me and set it in the late 60's...  And it was awesome.

But that same connection to the show also caused me more than a little trouble when my own life didn't mimic the happy endings that came at the end of every 22 minute episode.  Granted, the show had its poignant moments of loss and tragedy, confusion and misery; it was a show about growing up, after all.  But whereas everything was neatly reset by the following episode, I was falling behind in my own personal resolutions to similar problems.

I think it's interesting that in debates about what's causing the destruction of youth and why kids today are falling apart (a concept I don't actually agree with), some groups point to violent video games, John Cusack points to pop music (go watch High Fidelity), some groups point to violent movies and TV shows...  But nobody looks at the "wholesome" stuff and points the finger that way.

When I watched the show, I had the benefit of hearing the narrator's voiceovers and thinking, "Yeah, that's right."  But I also made the mistake of thinking that everybody I interacted with could hear the narrator's voice, too, and just knew what the subtext was in any given situation.  I took a lot of things for granted and my own communication skills suffered because while I knew what I meant, and the show knew what I meant, the rest of the world couldn't hear the grown-up voice explaining everything going on beneath the surface.

Arguments and misunderstandings went unresolved, and honest expression wasn't my strong suit.  Thus, it took a while for me to figure out that maybe things weren't as clear to the rest of the world as it was in my own head.

Also, The Wonder Years (and I blame Freaks and Geeks and Undeclared for this as well), provided an unrealistic expectation for justice and, for lack of a better phrase (because I'm too lazy to look one up right now), Social Darwinism.

To this day I don't know how I got so lucky as to end up with Ruth -- I'm certain it's through no fault of my own -- and I'm (I would say) unreasonably fortunate to have the friendships I currently enjoy, but it's taken me the better part of my life to get here.

On TV, however, nerdy and geeky kids pretty much always get the girl they're going for.  Eventually.  Typically within one season, if not just a few episodes.  And while it doesn't always end up well on TV, the fallout from such breakups is relegated to background noise and occasional inconveniences for the character.

Everybody alive can attest that it's never quite so easy.

(Pay attention robots, you'll need to know this if you ever hope to fit in with the human world before your eventual takeover)

So when I broke up with my own personal Winnie to ask out my own personal Madeline - while Kevin actually succeeded in the show (if only temporarily) I failed miserably.  And rightfully so -- it was a dick move and I've regretted it forever, but while the show rolled on with Kevin living his life and experiencing new problems every week, I was stuck dealing with the fallout from my own fuck-up for far too long.  Worse yet, while the show relegated Madeline to a background character role before eventually phasing her out completely, I had to watch as my "Madeline" ended up dating a friend of mine and my "Winnie" shut me out and wouldn't have anything to do with me for years to come.

(To be fair, Matt was a great guy and totally deserved to be with "Madeline," but it didn't make me feel any better to see them going out together while I was single and lonely)

(And no, I'm not going to reveal the girls' real names, so don't ask)

I'm grown up now (sorta), and I still love the show (it's on right now as I type this, of course), but coming back to it after all these years has brought up a lot of feelings for me.  In many ways I suffered right there with the characters through it all, and even though I stopped watching it in the later seasons, whenever I did catch an episode it was all too true.  I think part of the reason I stopped watching it was because it was too true, and I didn't want to keep making the same mistakes.  Ultimately I'd have to say the show did more good than harm, though, as suffering through it helped teach the valuable lesson that real life and TV are not the same thing.  Reality is never resolved in healthy, 22-minute segments.  And while new characters only stuck around for a few episodes, in real life they were there for the long haul.  Bullies don't go away after an episode or two, and broken hearts aren't mended by the following season.

Still, watching it now allows me to look back on things through rose-colored nostalgia glasses and enjoy it.  Because while, when you're young, EVERY problem is an "end of the world" type problem that you're certain you'll never recover from, I know now that in the grand scheme of things it will all pass, and that life goes on.  I know how to be honest and communicate with people now, to avoid the very drama I created and lived through back then.

So did TV really help ruin my life?  Only as a kid.  And if your life doesn't suck as a kid, at least a little, you typically grow up to be a shitty adult.   So yeah, in a roundabout way that was probably unintentional, I did learn a lot about life from that show, and ultimately, in the long run (y'know, real life) I came out better for it.