May Television Sweeps Period Leaves Columnist Out of Sorts

You undoubtedly know by now that I endeavor to cover various major issues in this column such as ocean flatulence and exploding cattle. So as a public service, I’m deviating from the norm and dedicating this piece to anyone still in the grips of TV episode withdrawal and wondering, “What the heck is going to happen to Jack Bauer?”

OK, I admit it. Last month I watched waaaaaayy too much television. The May “sweeps” period is just a faded memory now, but could you believe it? The networks trotted out more finales than the Ziegfried Follies. I had no choice but to abandon myself in front of the tube for the duration, forcing my spouse to go beg food from the neighbors.

The “24” aficionados needed a roadmap to follow all the twists and turns this season, but we finally got the unbeatable satisfaction of seeing the primo Sleazy Politician, President Logan, get his just desserts from his deliciously over-wrought wife, Martha. Dumb like a fox, she nailed this turkey good, and it appeared that, despite poor Edgar’s untimely demise, things on the “24” front might end happily. Until some bad boys from the Chinese government nabbed Jack at the last minute, turning him into a human punching bag because of some bad blood spilled last season.   

Speaking of bad blood, what is it with those “Desperate Housewives” on Wisteria Lane? I mean – I’ve lived in at least a dozen neighborhoods and yet to see the likes of what that cul-de-sac has endured in two short seasons.  Desperate is right! If it isn’t Bree taking a drunken nosedive into the flowerbed, it’s Betty Applewhite stuffing dead bodies into the trunk of her car. Then Edie goes all tit for tat and burns down Susan’s house just because Susan “dated” (yes, that’s a euphemism) Edie’s fiance, even though Susan is technically still married to him. Meanwhile, Gabrielle claims to want the baby her surrogate-mom housekeeper is carrying – but we suspect said baby could infringe awkwardly on Gaby’s standing date with the West Coast fleet.  Wherever this potboiler is headed next season, I’m afraid we’ll be in for another high-speed ride on this carousel of guilty pleasures.

Then there’s the world’s most ambitious TV amateur hour – “American Idol,” which blows out the other network competition on a regular basis. NBC could televise the Second Coming, and viewers would nevertheless tune in to see Simon Cowell verbally jab contestants. Recording artists from Meatloaf to Dionne Warwick were trotted out for the huge finale, while we sat pinned to the edge of our seats waiting for the winner to be revealed. When Taylor Hicks was victorious, weepy Paula Abdul shed copious tears for about the zillionth time, although one gets the feeling Paula cries when she makes her manicure appointments.  

As far as “Lost” is concerned, the word about sums up where I am – I’ve totally lost the whole thread of this series. It got too weird for words when the group found the underground digs. Give me a pristine, uncomplicated desert island any day – minus the sophisticated electronics equipment. And whatever happened to that major monster thing out in the jungle? Never mind, I think I’d slipped into a coma by then and missed it.

The downside of all this finale hoopla is that it’s left me feeling a little out of sorts –like I just returned from a shamefully overindulgent trip to Las Vegas.  The kind where you stayed up too late and then you blew it big time at the buffet tables and now your feet are roughly the size of the boxes your shoes came in. So you’re cranky and bad-tempered and – dang it – we have to wait clear ’til January to find out what happens to Jack Bauer. 

But in the meantime, there’s a little flicker of hope for us recovering Sweeps Month Tube-a-phobes. Can you say “Summer Replacement Series?”

And now, back to your regularly scheduled newspaper…

Gale Hammond is a 23-year Morgan Hill resident. Reach her at

Ga*********@ao*.com











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