I am a dramatic and emotional person and a certain popular PBS show had a dramatic twist this Sunday, so I just sat there and cried. I guess since the time whoever it was popped out of the Greek chorus and started the whole idea of theatre, the brilliant idea of making the audience have a cathartic experience was right on because that’s what I had. My mom used to cry at commercials and Little House on the Prairie when I was a kid. She could go into catharsis over “the look…the feel…of cotton…the fabric of our lives” or something. I didn’t get it then, maybe because I was too little to understand the emotional appeal.
This PBS show is wildly popular and supposed to be “quality programming,” so I’m just one of millions. So I shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I should just accept my identification with a scripted television show and move on. Whispers of “soap opera” are in the air, but I just ignore them. Honestly, I wait and wait for it to come on Sundays, sucked back in each week. Basically, I have become my mom.