The Art of Mindlessness

I don't want to watch movies or read serious books and I even blew off the last opera of the season (though my friends assured me that I didn't miss much). Instead I watch mindless TV. Mostly "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "The Golden Girls", and I read trashy mystery novels. Odd, some people would listen to a concerto or read something inspirational, but give me a serial killer and a smart crack from Sophia and it's better than Xanax.

It doesn't matter if I've seen the shows before; it doesn't even matter if I saw them yesterday, it is the sounds of the voices, the little quips of humor that occasionally penetrate, I can't quite seem to figure it out. Sometimes I wonder if I need a 12-step group. "Hi, my name is Denise and I really do love Raymond."

This may surprise many of my friends who thought I only obsessed about Jane Austen. (Just because the last time I was in NY, I went to a Broadway show simply because one of the leads had starred in Persuasion, and because I spent New Years watching all 6 hours of Pride and Prejudice while knitting a long piece of purple cloth.) But, alas, I have given Miss Jane a break. This is not the time for parlors, courtships, private balls, and gentle laughter. This is a time for getting the bad guys and belly laughs and a time for Hollywood to quit making really bad Jane Austen movies. This is a time for mindlessness.