This afternoon I got in the car for my horrendous commute home, to learn that my favorite radio show was broadcasting its last show. For a moment, I wanted to burst into tears, throw my car over an embankment and sacrifice myself to ensure the continuation of the B Team radio show.
With this impulse, I began to think about other ends. Mostly television ends. I am sure I cried when Ally McBeal ended. Friends was bittersweet. I can't even say the words Loreli and Rory without getting choked up. But why?
Have I become far too attached to the media? Yes and no. While I'm sure I could find a very expensive, spec wearing doc to tell me that I suffer from emotional issues, I beg to differ. Rory and I went to college together. She was there for the hard times. When I wanted to hear someone else complain about the horrors of Thanksgiving, Chandler had a handfuls of one-liners. I can't even begin to discuss the comfort of Ally's dancing baby.
It is only human nature that we make deep and meaningful connections to those people, places, or things that become routine. Tomorrow I will twist the ignition, the antenna will rise, and the sultry Aussie voice of Biron, and the catty snapping of Chrissy will not be there to guide me home. Perhaps I am dramatic. But I prefer sentimental.
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