The Revival of One Hundred Steps - Part VIII: Crying and Other Games

December 4, 2005 6:19 PM

I think one of the most certifiably insane things I do is cry. I have the ability (or the insanity) to cry at the most inane things like The Cosby Show, any number of romantic comedies, and commercials for diamond rings and Cheerios. But the inexplicable way I get emotional about 5 minutes of Scrubs and 30 seconds of a DeBeers Diamonds commercial is not just proof of the power of advertising. (Although I am a sucker for a great commercial or a well-designed product.) I'm completely drawn to the way television easily packages a torrent of complicated and interconnected emotions and presents it in a well-wrapped 30 second, 30 minute or an hour long segment that hits you right in the guts.

As ridiculous as it sounds, when I watch an episode of Scrubs, I can't help but wish that life would come in packaged 30 minute segments. Trials and tribulations would last only an alotted amount of time at the end of which would result in a tightly and elegantly tied bow of an epiphany. Everything would make sense. Then after your show would come an episode of Law & Order to put your life in perspective. But there isn't enough capital, sponsors, or products in the world that could ever make that fly. Because no one is really interested in the insecurities and fears that drives the person sitting across from you on your way to work on the 6 train, coupled with the fact that life doesn't come in 30 minute segments.

So everyone just desperately tries to hold onto everything they're afraid of because once that escapes, there'll be chaos. But once in a while one will react to his fears and hope that a commercial break will distract their friends and family from seeing something that had been buried a long time ago. It's difficult to fight your insecurities and act appropriately on a daily basis, but you do it to keep the peace. In the midst of protecting yourself and your privacy, it's the things that you say or don't say that can mess up the delicate balance you already have.

And perhaps Scrubs is not the emotional tour de force of Titanic or a Barbara Streisand song, but it certainly does it for me. It's an excuse for me to cry about the things I want to cry about in life. Does that make me a wuss? I said wuss.