This has been a sad weekend. After three months, another good relationship has come to an end. We spent nights together while eating pizza, mornings after an early run and countless hours on a train. Indeed, it was on my last VIA Train journey back to Peterborough that my love affair with the infamous TV show Nip/Tuck began.
Outside of struggling to sleep, my time was divided to the show's first season and the wonderful book The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I had purchased the first three seasons without having ever seen a single episode, but it paid off. I quickly grew attracted to the show and within weeks had already ordered more of the seasons. The show was utterly ridiculous and dramatic, but wildly entertaining. It followed the practice of two plastic surgeons and all the things they get into, all in a raunchy, sex, drugs and rock and roll package you expect from some high profile shows.
But now it is over. I watched the series finale a few days ago and was left with a bizarre feeling. I watched an episode so frequently (sometimes daily) that I got used to the show. It was part of my day. Although never a central piece of my day, the characters were almost like daily figures. And I'll admit, I'm sad to see them go.
This confession would be far more pathetic if I didn't lead much of a life outside of TV shows, but because I do, I feel as though any "Chris, get a life" commentary might not hold its weight.
I'm unsure whether or not to identify myself as a TV show junkie. I don't read pages and pages of reviews, follow the latest gossip on fan websites or purchase paraphernalia. But I watch a lot of it. Sometimes simply for something to do, or as is often the case, sometimes while I'm doing something else. Whatever the reason, I go through them quickly. Nip/Tuck was seven seasons. I've gone through shows faster.
I've already experienced one end of a long-watched show this year when Lost finally let the curtain fall. But I didn't feel any sadness. More relief, actually, since Lost had a way of irritating even the most patient followers.
I offer two reasons why Nip/Tuck did this to me. The first is the way in which I watched the show. It was frequent and I had DVD copies, rather than waiting each week for a new episode. I watched consistently and never had a major gap where interest might be lost. Have you ever read a book halfway through and then stopped for a month, only to realize you have to start over to regain the previous interest you had in the book?
As an obvious digression, I will mention that I do read and I try to read books as much as I can. However, if given the choice, TV shows seem to dominate. That's why I love to land myself in a situation where I can't watch as easily. Say, taking the bus into Toronto or a day on the dock at the cottage.
The second reason is the type of show. I've watched several shows in their entirety in the way described above, but they haven't had as much of an effect on me. Some are comedies (Arrested Development) or fantasy (Buffy) or something else unrealistic. Only one other show has given me a similar reaction at its end: Six Feet Under. Five seasons took me a few months to get through and the final six minutes of the final episode still leave me haunted. But in SFU the world was realistic, the characters were realistic and it was only the events that took place that were out of the ordinary. Nip/Tuck was similar.
In any case, I'll move on. I'm already onto a new show, the critically acclaimed Showtime show, Queer As Folk. A few episodes got me through the tireless effort of cursing at a new IKEA bed I was building for my sister's room.
But Nip/Tuck will always have a wonderful place in my mind. Not because of the show or how much I enjoyed it, but because of where I was in my life when I came across it. Like a familiar smell or song, anytime I watch the opening credits, I am instantly brought back to the long nights on the train, calmly rolling along in my own happy world without a care in sight.
