A couple weeks ago, I wrote a synopsis/review of two new shows from MRC (Media Rights Capital) that were airing on the outsourced CW Sunday night lineup. After discussing the merits and faults of the shows I pondered their likelihood of survival. Here’s what I had to say:

It doesn’t look great, but I’m cautiously optimistic about the prospects for both of these shows, primarily because of this: their ratings aren’t stellar, but MRC is an independent producer and its requirements when it comes to ratings might not be as grand as networks. And it seems to me that MRC is working towards establishing itself as a producer of quality television programming. They might not succeed, but the very fact that they have that goal means to me that they’ll give their material more of a chance than an established network.

Oops. My bad. Apparently, unbeknownst to me — but knownst to others — MRC was having cash flow and managerial issues which likely led to the cancellations. And sure, the atrocious ratings probably didn’t help, but in the end, it comes down to a lack of faith in your product. And me, I’ve got too much faith. Everyone I know considers me a pessimist of the highest order, but I’m in fact an incredibly optimistic, almost naïvely so, guy.

Which is why, when MRC shut down production to “work on scripts” I didn’t really see it as the company saving some cash while they decide the faith of the show. I saw it as a company willing to work to improve a product. For the most part, I genuinely believe that television networks want to do more than just sell advertising.

Yes, sometimes networks are too quick with their trigger finger, cancelling shows before they’ve had a chance to build a base, but overall they try to let shows develop if there is promise. Unfortunately, a brilliant show with ever-decreasing ratings doesn’t show promise to most network executives, much to the detriment of good taste. So there is a level of practised cynicism I should have by now, but I generally don’t. No matter how many times I get burned, I keep going back to the networks to see what new brilliance they have that no one seems to be watching. Not that Valentine or Easy Money were brilliant, far from it, but their deaths are a symptom of a greater problem that television is enduring right now. A problem I on occasion rail against, but most of the time am ignorant of simply because I have too much faith.

Oh well, two fewer shows to watch every week.

I love television. In fact, many of my friends have told me, or have secretly wished they had the balls to tell me, that I have an unhealthy obsession with television. I watch more television on any given day than most people will in an entire week. Sitting down and watching an entire television series over the course of a few weeks is commonplace to me. I think it’s fair to say that television is kind of a big deal to me. Which is why what happened last night was very un-me.

Last night, I screwed up on the PVR set up when I went to record How I Met Your Mother and inadvertantly recorded Two and a Half Men. It suffices to say I was less than pleased. I went down to watch HIMYM, about twenty minutes into the episode, and saw no wonderul red light on my PVR. And screwing up on the PVR, or the PVR screwing me over, is not the atypical event, but rather what immediately followed it: I sat down and started watching the show.

Often, when I sit down to watch a show my dad will drift in and out of the room, he’ll pay attention for a couple minutes and then head off somewhere else, or even strike up a conversation with me when he knows he should at least wait until the commercial. Last night was the first time I ever “drifted in” to a tv show when it was a new episode. This isn’t the same as flipping to Space and seeing Picard digging a trench on Risa and sticking around for the rest. This is flicking to ABC and seeing John Locke igniting a stick of dynamite and, having missed what came before deciding “eh, what the fuck” and watching from there.

Granted, How I Met Your Mother isn’t quite as continuity reliant as Lost or some of my other favourite shows, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. I still haven’t seen the first two-thirds of that episode. Normally, I’d download the episode that night and watch it shortly after, but that night I sat my ass down and said “eh, what the fuck.” This won’t become a typical behaviour on my part if only because it felt so weird, even in the moment, to not know what had come before but the fact that it happened at all is a sign of my age. Or at least that I’m becoming more like my father, and who the hell knows which is the worse of those.