MARK’S ARTICLE – March 13, 2010
“What’s the big deal?”
Too many of my favorite cop shows are beginning to really insult my intelligence. My intelligence is not easily insulted. You have to get way down there.
Each time I see something that disturbs me, I feel the need to discuss it with someone. Kay is usually the only one I have to discuss it with. Unfortunately, with cop shows, Kay is… Kay seems… uh, Kay doesn’t give a hoot.
We were watching NCIS-LA the other night. The series sprung from the bowels of NCIS. You could’ve guessed that even if you’re still sucking on a pacifier. NCIS stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I had to look it up. I’m apparently one of only a few who didn’t know what NCIS stands for, ‘cause each time those agents show their badges they are instantly recognized.
But, back to point, someone from CBS figured there are too many crimes involving naval personnel for just one TV series to handle ‘em all. Navy guys are getting bumped off right and left, so we need another series based in Los Angles.
CBS wanted to carry over the same humor that has made the original NCIS so popular. – There is a bloody body in the street, and DiNozzo says something funny about the dead guy not being able to make it to his next dental appointment. Just funny as can be.
So, Kay and I are still watching NCIS LA, and I notice a scene with LL Cool J. He has just tailed a bad guy to a building on deserted street. The bad guy gets out of his car, looks around to make sure he wasn’t followed and then enters the building. LL C J is sitting there in his black Dodge right across the street from the guy. Only other car on the road. His window is down and J is staring right at him. The perp doesn’t notice.
“Why don’t they try to make it just a little bit authentic?” I said to Kay. Kay didn’t know. “Hey, it’s just a show, Sweetie. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Don’t make a big deal out of it! I quit the show. It’s insulting. I do like Linda Hunt, though. Hate to see her on such a poorly written show.
I told you all that to tell you this. Jill was over last weekend and we really did some serious making of big deals. One instance involved a zombie movie. It had Simon Baker in it. You know? The Mentalist. Kay loves Simon Baker, remember? But, she hates Zombie movies. Hates ‘em so much that she won’t watch one even if Simon Baker is in it.
Jill and I hate zombies, too, but it was a bad night for TV. We were about ten minutes into the flick when Jill asked a question that should’ve been screamed by every zombie viewer in the land. Jill asked, “Why don’t zombies eat each other?”
No joke! Why don’t they? They’re stumbling around trying to chase live people, when right next to ‘em they’ve got people slowly strolling down the street with their arms sticking straight out! Eat them! Sheeesh, zombies! How dumb can you get?
After the zombie movie, Jill and I watched a detective show. I don‘t remember. We weren’t three minutes into this one when it happened. The ol’ head-butt. All shows have at least three head-butts per episode. Even cartoons.
Kay doesn’t care much for head-butts. She can take ‘em or leave ‘em. They drive me right up the wall. With Jill in the room, I could commiserate. I said, “Jill, why is it that the head-butt never hurts the guy who delivers it? It’s like, hey, if your head moves first, you don’t feel a thing.”
When we were kids, we called head-butts, bumping heads. Head-bumping never happened on purpose. It hurt way too much to initiate something like that. But, on TV, you can just ram your head into anybody’s head and it never hurts. Makes the receiver of the butt wish he had thought of it first.
Jill and I ended the evening watching a spoof on superhero movies. It was lame as all get out, but did have a few parts that had us laughing. Visual stuff. Silly, stupid… hilarious.
Kay watched with us for a few minutes. She seldom cracked a smile. Eventually, she left to read her book. I have to respect the girl for that. She’s so much more sophisticated. You see, Kay married into the family. Jill and I were born Hayters. We see humor in the most ridiculous of things. And, we make big deals out of the unimportant. It’s a disease passed on through the ages.
It’s a bad disease, but nothing like the disease that makes you a zombie. Never clear on what that is. But, I do know this. If you ever get caught by a zombie, you deserve to get eaten. They’re slower than slow. Walk with their hands straight out. Give me a break.