The other day was the final one
of the year 2019, meaning the next few weeks will find me writing checks
misdated “2019.”
And 2019 was an odd year in that,
according to Democrats, President Donald Trump is responsible for keeping the United States involved in Afghanistan
But if you were sane and lucid,
you would realize President Trump is withdrawing us from Afghanistan
If you hadn’t noticed over the
decades, pretty much every year is like this past one – wild.
To catch a break from the pundits
and asylum candidates, I normally end the year with inane activities which are
usually pretty easy to find on television.
It used to be that The Three
Stooges were run in a marathon on New Year’s Eve. Suddenly they were replaced by the equally
funny Marx Brothers. But then they
vanished without as much as a photo on a milk carton.
This void was as noticeable to me
because the rest of the TV offerings consisted of classic shows from the 1950’s
as well as re-runs of normally lame shows that should have been canceled years
ago.
I wanted to relax and laugh
without much in the way of heavy thought and making novenas over dire
situations. Give me comedy. Alas, there were none.
My sainted wife asked about Dick
Clark. “Is he on TV?” she queried.
For you youngsters, Mr. Clark was
a television personality who began his media rise as a radio DJ, then
progressed into a TV dance show host.
His popularity propelled him into a lifelong spot as host of Dick
Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve Party, starring him, of course.
I didn’t have the heart to tell
her he died just after the Civil War.
However, to avoid a losing
argument, I correctly switched the channel to ABC appease her, only to find a
guy named Ryan Seacrest there.
Neither of us spent the last few
decades in an Indonesian cave; we’ve heard of Ryan Seacrest, only not in a
context with which we were familiar.
Evidently, Mr. Seacrest was on
some show called American Idol – whatever that is. He won something which entitled him to be
annoying to the rest of America
 |
| Neither Ryan Seacrest nor Dick Clark |
We were strapped with the same
burden when Celine Dion was less well known as a Canadian “singer” who doesn’t
own a map. But I digress.
In any case, we watched Mr.
Seacrest’s show until our teeth began to shatter from the caterwauling and
jumping about the stages where live performances were irritating people, live.
Beating a cat with a violin to
make it scream is not necessarily music to my ears; it is, however, pleasant to
the crowds of jumping and arm-waving deaf people in the audiences.
Not only did we not recognize the
“artists,” we didn’t recognize the songs.
In fact, I was under impression the Geneva Conventions were still
applicable; it seems as though they are still germane, but only apply in times
of armed conflict. FYI.
This is when I muted the TV and
asked my sainted wife if she recognized anyone or any song. She was as baffled as Smokey.
Using logic, I explained how this
tripe was on TV to attract an audience.
It didn’t attract us for very long, and likely didn’t keep other Baby
Boomers tuned-in, either.
These “artists” were performing
for a crowd in their 20’s and 30’s, not in their 60’s and 70’s. But those in their 20’s and 30’s are out
partying at clubs or a friend’s crib – not staying home to watch this on
television on New Year’s Eve.
So here’s a free money-making tip
for the American Broadcasting Channel:
Air programs that have audience-specific appeal. Last night was not one of those stellar days
for ABC. You’re welcome.
The end product was we went to
bed early and arose without hangovers. Tomorrow
I’m off to buy some Three Stooges and Marx Brothers DVDs for New Year’s Eve
2020.
Where’s Guy Lombardo when you
need him?
