Let TV Watchers Rejoice!

My love of television is deeply ingrained in who I am. While most people picture farm kids running around, making hay forts and finding frogs in the nearby crick, I was perfectly content to snuggle into our itchy plaid couch and watch hours of television under a hand-crocheted afghan. It wasn’t until second grade (Valentine’s Day, if I recall. Candice spent the night and we listened to “Ice, Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice.) that cable made its way down our back country road.

 I don’t know why TV is such an integral part of my life. Maybe it was a chance to escape. Maybe I felt like the characters were the friends I didn’t have in real life. In any event, it was a well-known fact that I was a TV addict from a young age. Senior year of high school I took a TV production class to fill time and I loved it. That, combined with my experience as a real-life princess, motivated me to major in communications in college. I worked at the campus TV station for two years, before I decided that I didn’t like playing the political game that was campus broadcasting. After being forced into the harsh real world, I accepted a position on the studio crew on the local television news. I didn’t excel at it; one time I forgot to silence my cell phone, another I was playing solitaire on the Teleprompter computer and the computer froze and the script wouldn’t run at 10 p.m. on the dot. Whoops. It was too much of a hurry-up-and-wait career.

Whether it’s Barney and the gang on Mondays or the latest McDreamy drama on Thursdays, there’s usually something that I look forward to on prime-time TV. Until the strike. Although the strike has allowed me to catch up on episodes and series I missed.

It sounds like my nights will be filled again, and I couldn’t be happier. Welcome back, writers.

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