Television Memories
Matthew Ryan Fischer
“That was a pretty good show,” was the sort of thing my father would
say at the end of a first episode, which was his way of saying we would keep watching
it.
“Yeah, it was okay,” was my way of saying it was barely passable as
entertainment, but yes, I would continue to watch it with him, so we would have
something we could share.
My father and I didn’t share many interests and that included taste
in entertainment or television shows to watch. He liked weekly shows with
simple plots where good guys solved problems within one hour and societal norms
were reinforced. I preferred so called “prestige” television with morally gray characters
with disturbing revelations and plots that ran for multiple seasons. Maybe if
it were some sort of anthology with a single season long plot, we could both
get on board for it.
I can only remember two shows I stopped watching where he
continued. Both were situations where I felt the shows had run out of ideas and
they ran for far too many seasons afterwards. He would still give me the recap
the next day, as if I were still interested, or needed to know. That was one of
his funny quirks in the way he shared. He really liked retelling the plots of
the shows he had watched. Didn’t matter if they were good or not. Didn’t matter
that he wasn’t much of a story teller. He really wanted to recount the events.
Like all of us, we have some need to interact and this was one of his. If my
mom had been around, they probably would have watched it together. Or in the
later years when she couldn’t keep stories straight, he could tell her over and
over what had happened. Maybe I was his surrogate now. Maybe I shouldn’t have
been so dismissive.
I didn’t watch any of our shows for a few years. Not the ones he
liked, not the ones I liked. I didn’t want the memories ruined, and I didn’t
think I could handle thinking about him the entire time. “What did that mean?” “Why
did this happen?” Any time he couldn’t understand what was going on I had to
recap and explain. A small suffering. A minute price to pay. I would gladly suffer
through again if only I was able.
I should have listened to his recaps. Maybe I should have kept
watching the shows with him. An hour in such a small thing to give away, but it
felt like such a waste at the time. I would love to watch something new and get
to answer questions and talk about ideas and where the plots might go. I would
love to share that with someone again. I should have been more kind when I had
the chance. You never know.
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