My Life is a Sitcom

At a young age I became very aware of the literal implications of what I would say.
Growing up in the early 90's it was an era of "Kill me now!"s and "I would rather die than"s. However being an astute 9 year old I pondered these phrases and decided that I would eliminate them from my vocabulary at the minimum to avoid the wrath of a presumably literal God. This was also the course that led me to the removal of "Oh my God"s and "God damn it"s.

However times change and years of listening to sport commentary on television has ensured that choosing words appropriately has literally taken a back seat in my conscious. More recently, however, at a time when I was struggling to comprehend the meaning of one important word: "love", I realised that I was actually saying it all the time!
"I love House" I'd announce to whoever listened following a particularly sharp verbal jab from the wizened doctor.
"I love Andy Bichel!" I would slur loudly, as he hit a six in the final over to beat England.
But perhaps the best example of the way I use love can be stemmed from the recently ended life of one of the best television program's I'd ever seen: Arrested Development.
I loved this show. From the moment I turned it on it was love at first sight. What were the characteristics of my love?

I would never want to miss a new moment in its life.
I would think about it, even when it wasn't around.
I took an extended lunch break from work one day so I could drive home and watch the episode from the night before that I had to tape.
I sacrificed sleep and cash just to be closer to it... on DVD.

Loving Arrested Development was easy, because it reminded myself of a glorified me. The kind of guy that would perform courageous feats when his team was under pressure; the sharp mind that produced barbs of wit seemingly before the preceding context was spake. Without Arrested Development, I couldn't imagine my life would be as rewarding and enjoyable as it was. But things changed, and in the third season the show devolved into a more narcissistic, over-referencing shadow of its former self. I admit it, I turned on it. Watching it made me feel ill.

Where was my love now? How could I love something that I could no longer stand be around? What was my motivation? A sign of respect to the good times we’d shared wouldn’t do and obligation due the prior commitment I’d already given to the show seemed precariously cyclic.

When old, senile Arrested Development decided that last Friday night (or Saturday night by the time the torrents came out) was the time for it to die. I came along to be by its side. The truth was I’d never left it. This is unlike Family Guy, who I was just friends with but who I haven’t seen since about six months ago when I realised it wasn’t coming back from its walk on the inane side. Seeing no one reads this far in the boring entries my conclusion is I guess while originally I thought that loving something was basically an appreciation that, without it, the capacity for joy in your life would be reduced in some way. But perhaps it’s a little more than that, because I stuck by Arrested Development and the finale was actually good once they started making new jokes again instead of just constantly referencing themselves. Overall, this is something that needs more pondering.