The short answer:
I hope I’m appropriately so.
The long answer:
Once in ninth grade, my English teacher gave us an in-class exercise to help us with our writing skills. We were to choose a pair of items from a given list and then write a paragraph either comparing or contrasting them. Afterwards, she asked for volunteers to share their paragraph with the class. Naturally, I utilized my well-honed skill of looking uninterested, but not so uninterested as to be a sure target for involuntary volunteering. Thankfully, someone did agree to share and began reading: “There is a huge difference between life in a television sitcom and real life…”
This bothered me much more than it should have. Perhaps it was the fact that I had just written a paragraph about how similar sitcoms were to real life, and I had not realized that obviously these two items were meant to be contrasted rather than compared. Or perhaps it was the fact that I happened to have a crush on the person who volunteered, and it was now clear that we were not meant for each other. Either way, it was striking enough that I still remember the incident, which is pretty surprising, considering that I don’t even remember the teacher’s name.
I really did believe that sitcoms were similar to real life, and while I’ve learned maybe eighty thousand things since ninth grade, I still believe that they are more similar than most people give them credit for. I’d like to think that if a camera followed around your average person for a week, you could somehow cobble together a half-hour sitcom. It might be sort of bad, but I think it’d still be better than Two and a Half Men.
The biggest difference between sitcoms and real life is that sitcom characters are so absurdly clever. A quip that a character makes off the top of his head may have been thought about and refined by a group of comedy writers for days. If you then consider that the typical sitcom has a joke at least every ten seconds, this basically means that every sitcom character ever is smarter than everyone in real life.
It’s tough to compete, but since I don’t like the idea of losing a battle of wits to a fictional being, I try to be as clever as possible all the time. Usually I can’t come up with an appropriately witty response fast enough, so in normal conversation, I think I’m a bit bland. Luckily, for these blog posts, I can take as much time as I need to come up with something, so you can rest assured that every sentence will be clever. Like this one.
However, I still think that I am a serious person. Even sitcoms (well, except Seinfeld) have serious and emotional moments, and when done well, they can be surprisingly poignant. I think it reflects the fact that while it’s fun to make jokes and be silly, that isn’t what happiness is about, and that isn’t what makes life so great. There’s more to life than tricks and gaffs; there’s more to love than empty laughs.
Of course, it’s important not to overdo it. The downfall of many a sitcom has been the “very special episode,” because it’s no fun to watch the wacky family whose antics you’ve grown to love week after week suddenly having to deal with drug abuse or teen pregnancy. There’s a delicate balance between gravity and levity, and while it’s a game that I have yet to perfect, I try my best, and I hope it shows.
So my advice to anyone out there is to tread lightly, but don’t float away. Be honest, but don’t take things too seriously. And remember, a little heart can go a long way. (Just ask Necco.)
Cheers,
-qm
