Summer TV Dearth Calls for Alternative Entertainment

It's summertime during an Olympics year. So basically there's nothing good to watch on TV. I have no interest whatsoever in the over-hyped racket that is the summer games. Reruns of favorite shows only go so far and a person can only binge on so much Netflix before it seems like everything has been watched. I have already finished the entire first season of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. So while Clyde studies Greek on the sofa next to me, I have to find new ways to entertain myself. I reach for the computer and stumble on to:

Old documentaries on YouTube.

Favorites include old films about transportation, the miracle of modern travel by car or train in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s.  There's one about taking a bus from New York to Pittsburgh. What an adventure it is! Everyone is all dressed up - the ladies in dresses, the boys and men in jackets and ties. Everyone is so polite. Everyone is white. Did people really dress like that to take the bus? Of course, other black and white YouTube videos tell me that the really modern way to travel is by plane. Women in the 1940s wear their best furs as they board the sleek, shiny DC-3. The air-hostess pours coffee into a delicate china cup on a dry saucer. There is no hint of turbulence or air-sickness. Only the promise of a four course meal as the trip from one coast to another is cut by three days compared to that silly old-fashioned train on the ground. It certainly doesn't look like flying today, where you bring your own sandwich smashed into your carry-on and the other passengers wear flip-flops and tank tops as they reach over your head to jam their luggage into the overhead bin.

My other favorites are those films made in the early and mid 20th century about "the future" - the year 2000 and beyond. Amazingly, they predict some of our technology pretty accurately. One series done by Walter Cronkite in the 1960s, predicts reading the newspaper online, accessing your office without leaving home, and quickly cooking a meal with a microwave oven. What the futuristic films fail to take into account is the social change that also occurs before the 21st century. For example, in the futuristic kitchen where a meal practically prepares itself, it's always a full time, stay at home housewife in pearls and an apron who pushes the button after she finds out via video-phone what her husband wants for dinner.

It's also fun to watch the old sex education films. To think that some of them are probably still in use today.

I don't just watch old stuff on YouTube.

In light of where Clyde and I are planning to honeymoon next month, I've recently watched some helpful videos on how to be a good tourist in France. For example, I've learned that in restaurants, you don't get the check until you ask for it. Many an American tourist waits and waits and waits for the check, expecting it will just appear like it does at home. It's one of those little differences that leads to unnecessary misunderstanding and frustration between nations.

Just for fun, I decided to look at a video advising visitors to the United States. Do you know what frustrates them more than anything? Is it that we have a myopic world view or don't speak other languages? Is it that we're loud and boastful and think that we own the whole world? Nope. Foreign visitors hate our sales tax. Think about it. The price tag says one thing, but when you go to pay for it, you have to pay more. Wouldn't that just aggravate the hell out of you if you weren't used to it?

You can learn anything from watching YouTube. You can learn how to tie a tie, how to clean your bathroom, or how to make a paper airplane.

When our oven didn't work one night, we found a video about a similar problem on the same model and learned how to fix it. Of course we didn't actually fix the oven because we don't have any tools, but we at least had an idea about what was wrong with it.

I recently stumbled onto a series about personal grooming, including some tips about shaving that my father never taught me. Let's just say that some people groom areas of their bodies these days that Dad probably never thought to do.

I haven't even begun to scratch the surface. There are more hours of entertainment, news, cat videos, and other countless ways to pass summer evenings than I could ever imagine. Who needs to watch the Olympics  on TV anyway? If I want, I can just catch the highlights on YouTube.

Mindi Lahiri is Today's That Girl!

Of the tens of thousands of movies and TV shows on Netflix, I've seen every single one. At least clicking through the content leads me to believe so.

Browsing through suggested offerings created by algorithms especially for me (categories such as Gay Romantic Comedies, Disaster Documentaries,  and Dramatic TV Series Featuring a Strong Female Lead), I find myself saying out loud, "Seen it. Seen it. Seen it."

It briefly occurs to me that I could spend less time staring at the big screen in our living room, but then what would I do during dinner? The coffee table, where we eat, is right in front of the TV. The dining room table is too covered with mail, books, laundry, and other assorted junk to use for dining, except twice a year at Thanksgiving and Easter when we clear it off.

Premium cable complete with "On Demand" doesn't help much. Even with our multi-channel DVR, there are limitations to the available programming we can watch. For example, I can't record the current season of Grey's Anatomy because Clyde and I are only on season 7 in Netflix. Plus, it's frustrating to have to wait a whole week before the next Scandal or Madame Secretary airs (note: dramas featuring strong female leads).

I need a new source of programming to feed my binge watching addiction.

So I signed up for Hulu, one more paid TV subscription. And I sprung for the higher priced, commercial free version.

Hulu has a lot of stuff that Netflix and cable don't, particularly in the category of classic TV. Through the magic of Hulu, for example, I've rediscovered the 1960s sitcom, That Girl, starring a bright young Marlo Thomas who plays the bubbly Ann Marie. I used to watch it as a little boy and dream I'd grow up to live in my own apartment in the big city, complete with a boyfriend like her Donald. I can still hum the theme song. Of course it's very dated and corny, but when you think back to 1966, it was pretty gutsy to show a single young woman living alone in big old New York City. Sure, she had a boyfriend to get her out of the worst jams, but she paid her own rent.

Another series I'm enjoying on Hulu is more contemporary, The Mindy Project. Mindy Kaling plays another "single gal," Mindi Lahiri, also in New York City.

It's fun to note the similarities between the two. Both feature independent career women who live alone, at least initially. Both women get into a silly new situation in every episode. Both are a bit shallow: Mindy is obsessed with celebrity gossip; Ann because, well, that's just how young women were portrayed in those days.

The differences are also notable. With 50 years between them, Mindy is a little freer than Ann. While Ann and Donald date for years, there is absolutely no hint that they ever have sex. Mindy, on the other hand, openly sleeps with a succession of boyfriends, usually on the first date. Ann's career options seem limited - she wants to be an actress but often works as a waitress and retail clerk. Mindy is a full blown medical doctor, an OB-GYN. While Ann and Donald are about as white as you can be, Mindy is of Indian descent, though she is thoroughly American. When someone asks her religion, she thinks she might be Hindu but she's not sure.  Ann and Donald don't discuss religion.

It might be interesting to discuss whether television influences or reflects who we are. What can we learn about 1966 from watching That Girl? What does The Mindy Project tell us about our own times, 50 years later? All I know is that I learned from Ann Marie that happiness means getting your own place in the city and having your very own boyfriend. Poof! Here I am. Speaking of my boyfriend, while I watch my stories, Clyde spends his free evenings reading, mostly, though he's just as hooked on Grey's Anatomy as I am.