West Wing gets canned

I can fortunately count on two fingers the number of shows I watch religiously, and the show with the longest tenure in our household is The West Wing.

I'm disappointed yet not surprised to learn that it's been cancelled. I think the show was really killed nearly 3 years ago when Aaron Sorkin left the show, but last year the writing improved which gave me hope that NBC might be trying to keep it alive. Of course declining ratings driven by NBC's moving the show from Wednesday to Sunday nights was the deathblow, but for the reasons behind NBC's moves, Russell Shaw has authored a great explanation on why the show was really cancelled.

I can thank Staci for the other show we now watch... Lost.

Ganja Baby!

As a parent, Comcast's On-Demand service is now a must-have in our household for no other reason than Sesame Street reruns 24/7.

I haven't found a great selection of On-Demand movies, so we won't be dropping the NetFlix subscription anytime soon, but I've found a new Showtime series that I'm hooked on--Weeds. Weeds is funny, irreverent, and smart. Mary-Louise Parker is a mom who starts a marijuana business to support her family after her husband dies, which reminds me... it's time to update my will.

Everyone's final trip--six feet down

I always thought it oddly coincidental that Creed’s Weathered CD with the song ‘One Last Breath’ came out the same year that HBO’s Six Feet Under series launched. The lyrics, “Hold me now. I’m six feet from the edge, and I’m thinking that maybe six feet ain’t so far down,” would have been perfect to use in the show’s theme song if not for the rockin’ melody. I digress…

I was an early and regular fan of HBO’s Six Feet Under, and then life got in the way. Dumb luck along with a free Sunday evening with nothing on TV led me to watch episode 63 entitled “Everyone’s Waiting.” Despite missing the last three seasons of this series, watching the hour-long special before this final episode got me caught up.

If you ever watched Six Feet Under, the final episode is a must-see, if for only the last 15 minutes of the show. When I saw “David James Fisher, 1969 – 2044,” I lost it. I too was born in 1969 and 2044 is only 39 years away. Intellectually I’m ready to meet my creator, but I’m sorry, God, I can’t imagine leaving my wife and daughter. Comprehending our own mortality sucks.