Saturday Morning...

It's Saturday morning and my clock reads 9:23. I go to work at 10:00 and right now am waiting for my clothes to dry. It's quiet. Just the occasional car driving down Austin Avenue, but it's picking up even as I type. I had a great time last night with my first ever poker night, but really missed the sleep.

As is generally the case during quiet moments when most everyone I know is either asleep or away, my mind scans the horizon for what I must do for the next few days. But this is a different scan. My radar is haunted. I can only think of one thing. It's the thing that has been at least a tangental subject of probably a half/dozen blogs I read. For the most part, it is the thing that seems to bring us all together.

It is Grey's Anatomy.

If you aren't watching this show, start watching. Don't be turned off by how popular it is, because people who are turned off of something because of its popularity are generally the people I secretly make fun of behind their backs. There you go. The cat's out of the bag.

I'm not exactly sure why I like this show so much, but I think it has something to do with this: We all want our profession, the thing we spend our lives doing in order to survive, to be something that is consequential. This sounds corny, but we want our jobs to matter. We want to feel that between the time we punch in and punch out that someone's life was affected. This is probably why the most popular non-reality shows on television are crime and medical dramas.

Those young people at Seattle Grace are melodramatic. They obsess over stupid stuff. Two of them love people they can't have-- one because of marriage and the other because of fear of doing anything about it. They have families that don't understand and they have, in effect, become a family for each other. They are all extremely horny. They obsess about their intellect-- One at how much she has and the other at how little it appears he has. They work too much and play too little. They think their thoughts are the center of importance. They are us.

But they are different in that their drama is played out in a hospital. Stagnance doesn't occur in a hospital. Hospitals are the places where people go to get better, or to get worse. And these interns play a part in which will happen.

I've got to go to work now. Perhaps tonight I'll share my thoughts on a few of the story lines.