I have a story for you, blogosphere, a story begins with a confession… one I don’t particularly enjoy talking or even thinking about. Let’s get it out there quickly, band-aid-removal-like: I used to live in Wyoming.
Maybe this isn’t a very big deal, but I can’t look back on my residency in that state (thanks, Air Force) without cringing. The whole experience was miserable, from the weather to the small town politics. I have charts, graphs and lectures chronicling my total unhappiness in the state, but sharing those now is neither productive nor relevant.
The tiny town I lived in had a local news station with a painfully poor production quality. I realize that isn’t particularly kind, but it’s the sad, sad truth. The lighting was harsh, the make-up was always applied with a whorish hand, camera cuts were sharp and often unfocused, and lines were delivered with giggles. But they were like the Little Engine that Could- relentless.
Robert Robertson (this is, obviously, a placeholder name) was the station’s (in)famous newscaster; he was a small-town notoriety who made one mistake that nobody will let go. A decade ago, without realizing he was live on the air, Robert Robertson went on a legendary Christian Bale/Alec Baldwin-esque profanity-laced rant. I wasn’t around for the incident in question. I suspect it wasn’t that bad (he did apologize on-air the next day) but it’s become the stuff of legend. Nobody in that town can watch the news without bringing it up. “Hey, remember that time he SWORE???” The town’s inability to let go of irrelevant events, paired with their obsessive need to gossip means that Robert Robertson is still, ten years after the fact, a sort of potty-mouthed celebrity.
That’s just a fun story for you. It might be important later.
I don’t have a television subscription. I have a television set for watching movies, but I don’t have one of those set-ups where you hit the power button and watch thousands of shows instantly. I do watch TV shows sometimes, once they’ve been released on DVD. Last year, at the encouragement of my friend Chelsea, I watched all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I finished watching Buffy just in time for the debut of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s new series, Ringer. Last night, I watched said debut with some nerdy friends who saved the recording. I can’t recall much of it, honestly. My attention wasn’t what you’d call rapt, and the plot felt complicated…That could have something to do with my lack of attention. Plus, all the male characters looked exactly the same to me, resulting in a weird mix-up where I thought Buffy was watching her husband sleep with his daughter. That wasn’t happening at all, for the record.
Ringer, from what I’ve gathered, is about identical twins: New York Buffy and Wyoming Buffy. At one point, Wyoming Buffy is hanging out, watching TV. She flips through a couple of news channels before resting on a suspiciously familiar low-quality station. And who should be staring out of the TV at Buffy than…ROBERT ROBERTSON!?!?
…I guess this isn’t significant or interesting to anyone who hasn’t had their news delivered to them by stuttering, swearing Robert Robertson. I’m so surprised that the behind-the-scenes folks making the show caught that little detail, putting Wyoming’s best-known newscaster on TV for Buffy to watch. It’s even more surprising when you consider the awful CGI in the show. I mean…how can they spend time finding Robert Robertson and fail to figure out green-screening?