Brian Damage
02-27-2008, 12:47 PM
For this Irish girl, it’s going to be a St. Patrick’s Day of serious decision. What to do? Stay home and watch the only show I’ve been craving new episodes for since the writer’s strike began, or do my typical Paddy’s Day trip to a local watering hole, where my buddy’s kilt-clad band will perform?
It’s a tough call. Technically, I could do both. Isn’t that exactly why God created TiVo? But I feel compelled to watch the Big Bang Theory season premiere, well, on the day it premieres.
It’s been a rough few months without it. When I heard the writer’s strike was over, the first thing I said to my husband was, “This means Big Bang Theory is coming back!” Well, actually, that was the second thing. The first was, “Damn! My dreams of being a Hollywood writing scab have come crashing to an end.”
Either way, Big Bang Theory is quite possibly the funniest new sitcom to air in the last few years. And I’m picky, considering I haven’t loved a sitcom since Seinfeld.
I think my love for both shows has a lot to do with their premise of a group of misfits who just happen to find each other. It’s the same reason I own – and watch, even when it’s not Christmas – the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer story. My heart melts every time he goes to the Island of Misfit Toys, where the toy bird doesn’t fly and Hermey is an elf who prefers dentistry to toy-making.
Eight episodes of Big Bang aired on CBS last fall, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I fell in love with the show. Not until last weekend, that is. Let me explain.
Big Bang Theory stars a couple of 20-something male physicists with big brains and small social skills. I’m not in my 20s anymore. I’m not a guy. And I’m definitely not smart enough to be a physicist.
But last weekend, a tragedy brought me back in touch with my nerdy roots. A friend of mine from college passed away, and I spent some lengthy, quality time with my old “Island of Misfit Toys” friends. It had been years since I’d seen them. We had a Hermey in our group – a lawyer who’d much rather fix motorcycles for a living. And my friend who died is probably the bird who will never fly. On the Island, the misfit cowboy rides an Ostrich. Maybe he is me. I come from a union family, but drive a Honda.
The point is, the writers and actors of Big Bang Theory know exactly how to portray the hyper-intelligent, hyper-lovable type. These guys are my old friends. I knew it last weekend when we were all sitting around discussing the effect of palindromes (you know, words that read the same backwards and forwards, like “level”) on the game of Boggle.
We of course then digressed – perhaps a little too easily – into the beauty of chaos theory. There was also mention of what life might be like if people had to cross moats to enter our homes. At first, I thought maybe we were just trying to fill the inevitable holes of silence that happen at funerals. But on my drive home, I realized that conversation probably would have happened no matter where we were, under any circumstances. It felt familiar. It felt great.
The next day was Monday, and when I turned on my television at exactly 8 p.m., a huge smile came over me. Because I know that in just a few short weeks, that time slot will be filled with delightful Sheldon, Leonard, Raj and Wolowitz. All the talk of theories, hypotheses and experiments is sure to make me laugh. Reminisce. Drop me off at the old Island.
So, on March 17, bring on the Big Bang! I’ll save the kilts for next year. Apparently, my nerd blood runs thicker than my Irish heritage.
http://www.northstarwriters.com/ee009.htm
It’s a tough call. Technically, I could do both. Isn’t that exactly why God created TiVo? But I feel compelled to watch the Big Bang Theory season premiere, well, on the day it premieres.
It’s been a rough few months without it. When I heard the writer’s strike was over, the first thing I said to my husband was, “This means Big Bang Theory is coming back!” Well, actually, that was the second thing. The first was, “Damn! My dreams of being a Hollywood writing scab have come crashing to an end.”
Either way, Big Bang Theory is quite possibly the funniest new sitcom to air in the last few years. And I’m picky, considering I haven’t loved a sitcom since Seinfeld.
I think my love for both shows has a lot to do with their premise of a group of misfits who just happen to find each other. It’s the same reason I own – and watch, even when it’s not Christmas – the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer story. My heart melts every time he goes to the Island of Misfit Toys, where the toy bird doesn’t fly and Hermey is an elf who prefers dentistry to toy-making.
Eight episodes of Big Bang aired on CBS last fall, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I fell in love with the show. Not until last weekend, that is. Let me explain.
Big Bang Theory stars a couple of 20-something male physicists with big brains and small social skills. I’m not in my 20s anymore. I’m not a guy. And I’m definitely not smart enough to be a physicist.
But last weekend, a tragedy brought me back in touch with my nerdy roots. A friend of mine from college passed away, and I spent some lengthy, quality time with my old “Island of Misfit Toys” friends. It had been years since I’d seen them. We had a Hermey in our group – a lawyer who’d much rather fix motorcycles for a living. And my friend who died is probably the bird who will never fly. On the Island, the misfit cowboy rides an Ostrich. Maybe he is me. I come from a union family, but drive a Honda.
The point is, the writers and actors of Big Bang Theory know exactly how to portray the hyper-intelligent, hyper-lovable type. These guys are my old friends. I knew it last weekend when we were all sitting around discussing the effect of palindromes (you know, words that read the same backwards and forwards, like “level”) on the game of Boggle.
We of course then digressed – perhaps a little too easily – into the beauty of chaos theory. There was also mention of what life might be like if people had to cross moats to enter our homes. At first, I thought maybe we were just trying to fill the inevitable holes of silence that happen at funerals. But on my drive home, I realized that conversation probably would have happened no matter where we were, under any circumstances. It felt familiar. It felt great.
The next day was Monday, and when I turned on my television at exactly 8 p.m., a huge smile came over me. Because I know that in just a few short weeks, that time slot will be filled with delightful Sheldon, Leonard, Raj and Wolowitz. All the talk of theories, hypotheses and experiments is sure to make me laugh. Reminisce. Drop me off at the old Island.
So, on March 17, bring on the Big Bang! I’ll save the kilts for next year. Apparently, my nerd blood runs thicker than my Irish heritage.
http://www.northstarwriters.com/ee009.htm