I don’t watch as much TV as I used to. It’s not that I think I’m “too good to waste my time on such a brain-numbing blot on the history of popular culture” or anything like that. But I am lazy, and watching a TV show--not just one episode, but an entire show--takes time and dedication. For the time being, the only TV series I plan to follow this year is Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and that’s more out of loyalty to Joss Whedon than anything else. Any other TV shows that I decide to watch can wait for a DVD release.
But the pool of season premiers that slowly trickles out this time of year still holds a place in my heart. I used to watch TV, and a lot of it. I could have been described as a couch potato, except even potatoes need to go outside and get sunlight now and then. When I was a kid, a new episode of The Simpsons was always a landmark event. Besides, I really hated going to school, and having a new season to look forward to in September helped soften the summer-ending blow of academia that always coincided with the dead leaves and dropping temperatures.
Of course, that's all in the past now that I'm an adult. Summer vacation can't end if it doesn't start, so the autumn brings with it no new wounds for the lineup of premiers to heal.
Perhaps someday I will gather the energy to watch TV like a champ, and will once again reap the rewards that only September and sometimes October can bring. But for this year, I will have to admire the 2014 season premiers from a distance, my heart aching with the nostalgic echoes of a pleasure that only comes to those watching a hotly-anticipated episode on its original air date.
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