You know I posted about watching good TV to become a better writer? This isn’t like that.
I had this major day-job thing going on the last few months, and I’ve been relieving stress by watching television. Specifically, soapy drama. Private Practice, the new Dallas. Which led me and my incredibly awesome daughter who enjoys the same odd things I do to old Dallas.
We’re on Season 2. And it’s… wow. It’s so bad it’s good. Like how everyone used to love to hate J.R. Amiright?
There are these “Oh, no, he did NOT!” moments, and “Disco [dancing] is creepy…” moments, and “They’re playing dramatic music, so we’ll know something dramatic is happening.” moments. Then there are the moments where my daughter looks at me like… that was really wrong/offensive/racist/sexist.
And I don’t really know what to say. Except, yes. Things were really like that three decades ago. Yes, Miss Ellie did advise that violent man if he had issues with his wife cheating he should go home and take it out on her. Yes, the white woman Sue Ellen was going to buy a baby from did say that if her situation weren’t so bad, she wouldn’t have to live with people (in an apartment building) that “weren’t [her] kind.” You know what she meant because they showed lots of people of different races lazing about outside and they played music that kind of reminded me of Sanford and Son (which my grandfather used to watch and we only had one TV and three channels back then, people). Yes, “forced seduction” was a thing, and, yes, she did just totally get overwhelmed by lust when he practically raped her and gave in at the last second.
Don’t get me wrong–I’m enjoying tripping through the 80’s with my kid. I’m enjoying the cheesefest of awesome. It’s my guilty pleasure. But, it’s also a slice of culture. And that’s interesting, too.