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Monday, November 19, 2012

It's a Real Malady...You Know...Sort Of



You know what I’ve noticed? Occasionally, fictional stories make me mildly irrational.

For instance, if a coworker came to me and said, “Did you hear? Nancy, from the diner, got a call in the middle of the night. Her teenage daughter and her boyfriend got arrested for holding up a convenience store. Can you believe it? And it’s not the first time this guy has shown himself to be trouble. Super mysterious. His parents are a very nice couple, but not even they seem to know what’s going on with him. Keeps a lot of secrets. Anyway, Nancy and her husband have told their daughter that under no circumstances is she to see him again, but apparently her daughter is saying that they can’t stop her. It’s a real mess. And honestly, I don’t know if they have the money to keep making bail.”

I’m pretty sure I would be solidly on poor Nancy’s side. Daughter being led down a felonious path by a boyfriend into who knows what? Can’t really blame a parent for being concerned. In fact, I think most would blame a parent if her or she wasn’t worried in this situation. And the natural response certainly seems to be “get daughter away from hoodlum.”

Of course, I put in Season Three of Roswell and all I think is: For goodness sake, will the Parkers just chill out? So her grades dropped and she’s been incarcerated. Whatever. They need to find out about the other aliens! No, you don’t know that, but can’t you just assume it’s important and stop getting in the way? Where were you a couple seasons ago when your daughter got kidnapped by that shapeshifting alien? She didn’t come back for like a day and a half. Didn’t notice you getting all worried then. And don’t even get me started on Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Expecting their children to talk to them about any of the weird and potentially dangerous stunts they pull. They should all just follow Michael’s lead. Emancipations all around!

Then I turn the DVD off, the teenage drama stupor slowly fades, and I’m left wondering what the hell I was thinking.

Just one of the many examples of my battle with SIUR (Story-Induced-Unreasonable-Reactiveness). Let’s hear one of yours.

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