In the poverty stricken boredom of my Golden Years I have plenty of time on my hands. Recently I have been strolling down the virtual memory lane provided by YouTube and old Sex and the City videos.
I never watched the program while it was airing on prime time. I didn't ever have cable or a satellite. Once at Baby Sister's she showed me a few episodes she had taped (remember that?) and asked me to guess which character I thought she'd be. I got it wrong. Anyway. The women all seemed self-absorbed with boring, improbable problems; and the men weren't all that interesting either. I took a pass.
Then a few years later Angry Sister, who was a dear friend at the time, loaned me her fuzzy pink slip cased collection of every single SATC episode. Well! This show was a bit of a hoot. Yes, the women were all shallow and self-absorbed; but the story line was a bit more intriguing than I had originally thought. And the friendship the main characters shared was something I wanted to learn more about. I confess. I watched a lot. Over and over.
More than anything I fell in love with Carrie's apartment. The teenyness. The apparent style choices made over time. If I lived anywhere at anytime I'd want that apartment. If it was real of course. Now where I live bears no resemblance to Casa Carrie. I do have a white chair that I use as a nightstand. And I do not own a television either. And I have WAY more plants.
Least favorite girl: Samantha. Sorry. I hated all the huge earrings. Her sexual bluntness in conversation just seemed rude to me. And I refuse to believe that so very many 19-25 year old boy/men could be so powerfully attracted to a 45-50+ woman. Even one as stylish and well cared for as Ms. Jones. However her sweaty breast cancer speech makes up for a lot of her objectionable stuff. When the gal in the audience takes her wig off and points...that is a POWA FULL moment.
What, then is the point? Nothing really. I like the show in the little YouTube snatches (Oh, there is a bad joke waiting to happen.) And I like that such a successful program showcased women almost exclusively. Don't go there for realism. New York is only affordable for the imaginary. These ladies do not take public transportation, do much laundry, gain weight, or show much concern for issues outside their immediate realm. Shoes? Seriously? It's fantasy. I'm really old and I finally figured that out.
But, hey! Do NOT make another movie! It will suck. That is all. Oh, and I NEVER liked Big!
I never watched the program while it was airing on prime time. I didn't ever have cable or a satellite. Once at Baby Sister's she showed me a few episodes she had taped (remember that?) and asked me to guess which character I thought she'd be. I got it wrong. Anyway. The women all seemed self-absorbed with boring, improbable problems; and the men weren't all that interesting either. I took a pass.
Then a few years later Angry Sister, who was a dear friend at the time, loaned me her fuzzy pink slip cased collection of every single SATC episode. Well! This show was a bit of a hoot. Yes, the women were all shallow and self-absorbed; but the story line was a bit more intriguing than I had originally thought. And the friendship the main characters shared was something I wanted to learn more about. I confess. I watched a lot. Over and over.
More than anything I fell in love with Carrie's apartment. The teenyness. The apparent style choices made over time. If I lived anywhere at anytime I'd want that apartment. If it was real of course. Now where I live bears no resemblance to Casa Carrie. I do have a white chair that I use as a nightstand. And I do not own a television either. And I have WAY more plants.
Least favorite girl: Samantha. Sorry. I hated all the huge earrings. Her sexual bluntness in conversation just seemed rude to me. And I refuse to believe that so very many 19-25 year old boy/men could be so powerfully attracted to a 45-50+ woman. Even one as stylish and well cared for as Ms. Jones. However her sweaty breast cancer speech makes up for a lot of her objectionable stuff. When the gal in the audience takes her wig off and points...that is a POWA FULL moment.
What, then is the point? Nothing really. I like the show in the little YouTube snatches (Oh, there is a bad joke waiting to happen.) And I like that such a successful program showcased women almost exclusively. Don't go there for realism. New York is only affordable for the imaginary. These ladies do not take public transportation, do much laundry, gain weight, or show much concern for issues outside their immediate realm. Shoes? Seriously? It's fantasy. I'm really old and I finally figured that out.
But, hey! Do NOT make another movie! It will suck. That is all. Oh, and I NEVER liked Big!
No comments:
Post a Comment