Didn't we have a time?

Of course I'm watching the Friends finale. Over the last ten years, I've seen enough of the show to be amused, to know who's related to whom and how, and to laugh at the duck and the Barc-o-loungers and the "Smelly Cat" song. But tonight, as they alternately amuse and annoy me as they invariably do, I'm thinking about two other shows that aren't having their final episodes hyped to oblivion. You might remember them, or maybe they never even registered on your radar. One was My So-Called Life, and the other was Due South.

On the surface, they have nothing in common -- the daily lives of teens in as honest a theatre as possible; a quirky (to say the least) fish-out-of-water drama featuring a Canadian Mountie in urban Chicago. But both shows, aside from sporting excellent casts and writing that sometimes saw the underside of fucking brilliant, were scheduled up against a third new show, a half-hour sitcom called Friends. Quirky, honest, brilliant never stood a chance.

Not that Friends doesn't have its inspired moments. I'm seeing some of them right now. Even if the wacky friends finding their way in the world premise has gotten a little long in the tooth, the writing is still damn funny. And the cast has that connection and sparkle that only the best of ensemble casts can develop. But Friends was my third choice. I started watching My So-Called Life that fall. When they were taken off the air in January, I switched to Due South. It was only sometime in the third season of Friends that I started watching it. But they never became appointment television for me. They never caught my heart.

So while everybody in the world (okay, maybe not everybody) is wondering about Ross and Rachel and Joey and Chandler and Monica and Phoebe, I'm wondering if Brian ever told Angela he loved her and whether Angela forgave Rayanne for sleeping with Jordan and how things turn out for Ricky... and it would be nice to know that Fraser and Ray and Deifenbakker are all together somewhere in the streets of Chicago, solving crimes (politely, of course).

Well, there they go. Monica has left the keys on the counter. Everyone's destiny has been resolved. And I imagine the actors aren't having to fake those sniffles I hear now. It was a good run. I'd still trade knowing about Ross and Rachel to find out about Angela and Jordan and Brian.

So that's that. Now. Memo to NBC: Can we get rid of ER already?

Posted on May 06, 2004 to horticulture

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