September 25, 2008

Grey's Return

I'm not one to ritualistically circle round a television set with my estrogen-driven pals.

But one show brings me back, again and again.

You all know which one I'm talking about: the one with the Mc's: McSteamy. McDreamy.

Grey's Anatomy. Or, as it's usually called among friends, "Grey's".

Since my junior year at Seton Hill, I've followed this show. And I remember that the ritual was just as important as the show. The college world just stopped on those nights. Books lay in our rooms. My friends tore me away from the newspaper office. And then we all sat in our circle like little girls in our pajamas, jockeying in the dark for a position on one of the school's ragged dorm couches.

We weren't afraid to scream when someone hooked up with the villain. We ooohed and ahhhed at nearly every frame of Patrick Dempsey's heartbreaker mug. We swore more than once in exquisite anticipation when the show ended at just the right "wrong" moment. Our predictions were often better than the actual show.

Especially toward the end of our senior year. We were better Grey's writers than the actual show producers. But it didn't matter as long as we were together watching the show.

However, I watched last year with a longing for something. Was it for my friends circled around the set with me? Was it for the fresh plots and characters that I cared about? I think now it was a little of both. And today, with my college friends far-flung and life so different, I'm hoping for that golden Grey's time to return, even when I'm watching the show alone online on the wrong day in a cubicle.

There's a lot for the producers to prove this year. And this is their last chance with me. I really am hoping for the best.

Posted by Amanda Cochran at 4:14 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 16, 2008

The fourth wall falls

Every day at PBS seems like I'm tearing down the fourth wall.

I walk past Bill Moyers' office and I'm not quite sure if I should look in. The same surreal feeling inched over me as I sat in David Brancaccio's office overlooking Midtown Manhattan. (Interns are placed anywhere that they can fit -- including the really sweet host offices. Maria Hinojosa's office has a beautiful abstract painting of a mother and child on its far wall.)

Today when I saw David Brancaccio in person for the first time, I was in his way. I actually backed myself into our tape closet to make way for him and his guest. I can now confirm that a person can turn sixteen shades of red.

But really, this television internship has really helped me bring together the idea that television isn't some magical box with infallible information and unreachable people.

Seriously, people, I know that New York and these people in communications fields can seem so far away; but they're really not, and they're listening to more than you would expect.

Posted by Amanda Cochran at 2:08 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack