FRIENDS! I am so excited for the return of Will & Grace. It is one of my all-time favorite shows and I am hoping for a healthy dose of fresh and nostalgia tomorrow night. I am steering clear of reviews and early media coverage so my viewing experience is unclouded. (By the way – totally unintentional late 90s / early thousands TV hits start to the blog there. I groaned when I re-read it, but couldn’t quite make myself replace it because it was a genuine greeting…and now it’s making me laugh.)
I happened to mention my excitement over Will’s & Grace’s & Karen’s & Jack’s return at the dinner table the other night. I was almost giddy as I spoke about it.
Grace leaned in with intense interest.
She peered across the table at me with giant blue eyes and said, “Is it going to be in white and black?”
I tilted my head and smirked.
I looked at Kenny. He gave me a sidelong glance and also smirked.
I looked back at Grace, and said, “Do you mean like black and white on the TV screen? So the picture wouldn’t have any color?”
She said, “Yep. Will this one be in color?”
DEAR LORD! How old does this child think I am?
Kenny coughed to hold back a guffaw and looked away from me and the rest of the table at the gorgeous view of light gray, just-moved-in-so-it-is-still-blank wall. He was doing it to be polite and not laugh in my face, but at this point after the move, I am telling myself he was imagining what pictures we were going to hang there so we can empty and dispose of another box.
I giggled and said, “Yes, it will be in color.” Under my breath: Just like all of the shows I have watched in my lifetime.
She was amazed. “Really? TV wasn’t in white and black when you were little?”
Um, no. No, it was not.
I said, “No, I’ve always had color TV. So did Daddy. I think color TV started when your GRAMS AND POPS were kids.”
She said, “Oh, cool.”
Cool. Yea. Totes cool. Since you think I am at least 25 years older than I am, have some fellowkid speak.
I said, “Yep – we can Google it later to be sure.” And then promptly excused myself from the table to don my housecoat*, soak my teeth* and rub some Ben-Gay on my old, achy muscles*. It was 7 p.m. after all.
*none of these things actually happened.
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