My name is Anya, and I'm a TV addict...

I try really hard not to get addicted to TV shows, but unfortunately I have an addictive personality and when something tweaks my curiosity, engages my soul or just flat out entertains me, I can’t resist. Not to mention if it has anything to do with one of my many other addictions, like history, real estate, policing, decorating, crafting, animals, travel, the supernatural etc. etc. etc.

With three jobs and a family to look after (now including a five-month-old puppy, which is like having a two-year-old toddler) you can see where I could have some issues. Even though I try to restrain myself, when unable to fight the allure I write during the commercials, flipping between true-crime, design/renovation/real estate, travel and nature shows. Oh, and at this time of year I don’t miss a NFL game if I can help it!

Strange, maybe, for a girl who grew up in a country that at the time had one television channel and was under embargo by the US, so saw mostly very old British shows and truly ancient B movies. But perhaps that’s the very reason television became so important to me once the offerings widened. I was amazed so much of what I read in books could be translated to this visual medium. Even better, as a dedicated multi-tasker, television left my hands free, fulfilling my need to be doing at least two things at once. BONUS!

My first real addiction was Star Trek TNG. Back in Jamaica, post embargo, it was one of the few US shows the local channel could afford. By the time we got a season it was at least a couple years old, and they would bump it for things like Cricket World Cup, much to my annoyance. Then the world changed…we got one of those flying-saucer sized satellite dishes, and I found a feed out of Colorado that showed TNG EVERY NIGHT! BRWHAHAHA. I was sewing for a living at the time, and at eleven p.m. I could be found in front of the TV with a cup of tea and my handwork, ready to get my Star Trek fix. Even to this day I can’t resist it, although I think I’ve seen all the syndicated episodes at least three times…many more if Worf is featured. (Mmmm, Michael Dorn…)

I don’t think I’ve ever found another show that totally sucked me in that way, but I guess it’s like your first love…no matter how it ends or whether you move on, there’s a special place in your heart for your first. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t shows I find almost irresistible, because, believe me, there are.

Case in point—last night.

I’ve been sick since last weekend with one of those viruses you think is “just a cold” until it morphs into laryngitis, an upset stomach and an elephant that sits on your chest. Every last ounce of energy was sucked away, and I missed two days of work. Determined to get back out today, I decided to go to bed early last night…

But oh, there’s a re-play of The Voice, and I’d missed the first part of that particular episode, so I thought I’d watch it. Despite having seen the second half, I ended up watching it too. At that point, the smart thing would have simply been to turn off the TV and go in to bed.

Yeah, right.

Couldn’t resist flipping on the TV guide, and saw CSI was coming on. If it were an episode I’d already seen (I mean, at this time of year why wouldn’t it be?) I would have gone to bed, but it wasn’t, and it looked really interesting, and I just HAD to know whether Doc Robbins’ wife was cheating on him or not…

Ummm…you see my problem?

And now I’m fretting about one particular new show starting at the end of this month, already afraid I won’t be able to resist…

Anyone else looking forward to Elementary, the reimagining of Sherlock Holmes with Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu? It looks so good, I’m terrified there may be another addiction in my future…

Anya Richards

Journeys Through Seduction

Love is Where You Find It

As a newby to Beyond the Veil, this first post is intimidating. Here I am, surrounded by interesting, smart people, all plugged in and wanting to have meaningful discussions about important stuff. I have an extremely curious mind and try to keep up-to-date on what’s going on around the world, but I’ll be honest and admit I’m often behind on pop culture. Looking at this month’s topic I wondered what I could contribute, then decided to just jump in. After all, this is a subject I happen to have very decided views on.

Perhaps I’m showing my age, but I remember watching the Star Trek, The Next Generation episode, The Host, which first aired in 1991. In that episode Dr. Beverly Crusher falls in love with the Trill negotiator Odan, not knowing the intellect and personality she loves belongs to a symbiotic life form—the outer shell is just a host. When the host body is fatally injured, Riker carries Odan for a while, and then the Trill send a new host, a woman. I was unreasonably and totally disappointed when Dr. Crusher couldn’t get her head around the fact it was still Odan, irrespective of the outer wrapping. I’d have liked to have seen her accept that love where she found it, recognizing although the universe is a huge place, true and abiding love is rare.

Intellectually I know the producers probably couldn’t afford to have her take that path—not at that time anyway. Equally if she were a real person, in a real situation, I’d shrug and say, “She’s straight,” and leave it at that. Yet there’s a cliché I happen to believe is true—love is love. And I wish that could have been illustrated through the medium of television way back then.

This is a hard-won attitude. I come from an extremely homophobic country. When I was young ‘same-sex couple’ wasn’t an expression I’d even heard. As I got into my teens and began to understand, the civility of our society was deteriorating and it wasn’t unusual for performers to call for the death of “batty-men”, and for homosexuals to be beaten, sometimes fatally. They were relegated to the shadows, few daring to be themselves. Yet somehow, and I honestly don’t know how, I instinctively didn’t buy into the prevailing atmosphere. I couldn’t honestly judge a fellow human being for their sexuality.

I had friends I knew probably were gay but they had to pretend and, in the guys’ cases, chase the girls so as to “fit in.” Deny themselves so as not to be hurt, in some cases by their own family members. I’m so happy that most of them left the island and were able to freely be themselves. I left too, and I’m proud to now live in a country where same-sex marriages are accepted, where if one of my kids were gay or lesbian it wouldn’t mean they’d be ostracized or have to call their lover their “roommate” or “friend.”

This is a great time to believe in love, to be writing about it, feeling it, recognizing it when it comes our way. We’re not all the way there yet, but we’ve come so far and I, for one, am grateful.