I’ve been an avid TV fan since Frasier had hair and you had to stand up to change the channel. My parents and I would gather around the television with our TV trays and watch everything from the Cosby Show to Knots Landing to the Church Lady. Situation comedies in particular influenced my path to adulthood in many wonderful ways. In fact, I first learned how to speak Valley Girl from an episode of Family Ties (gag me with a spoon!)
Yet there’s a certain something missing from today’s television shows – that element of family togetherness strengthened only by watching your favorite sitcom personas learn valuable lessons whilst undergoing extreme duress sans laugh track. Where have all the “very special episodes” gone?
Once upon a Full House, you’d know it was getting serious when the “very special” leitmotif played in the background of DJ skipping school or Stephanie considering a cigarette or Michelle getting amnesia. A very minor B story line would keep the mood light, but the real drama would unfold at a breathtaking pace while my Swanson mashed potatoes cooled in their little plastic tray.
I’ve never had a larger lump in my throat than when Chandler Bing (aka Mr. Matthew Perry) died on Growing Pains after a drunk driving incident, I’ve never been as glued to the screen as when Jessie spun out of control while singing “I’m So Excited” on Saved by the Bell, and I’ve never had a greater anticipation for a night of television than when I heard the words, “tune in for an unforgettable episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air.”
Sure Charlie died on Two and Half Men and everybody has a serious (yet awe-inspiring) drinking problem on Cougar Town, but where are the heartstrings to be tugged and lessons to be learned?
Perhaps it’s because spoiler sites lessen the impact, perhaps it’s because families don’t watch TV together anymore, or perhaps it’s just because after six seasons of Sex and the City nothing can be considered “special” anymore. But whatever the reason, I want to cry during sitcoms again!
What is the “very special episode” your remember most?


I adore a good epiphany – when you’re plodding through life, doing something completely innocuous, then suddenly a moment captures your attention and a tiny little metaphorical light bulb begins blazing in your head. Once the buzz subsides, you are left with a little nugget of perfect knowledge that you either want to shout from the rooftops or squirrel away for safekeeping.


The Way the Music Died
She’s happily listening to “American Girl.” And none of us ever will again.
Photo credits: Pyxurz
I’ve always had an inexplicable aversion to Chianti. If someone were to just fill up my glass without my knowledge I’d drink it and love it; but I won’t order it, I don’t want to talk about it, and even seeing the name on the label sends a tiny chill down my spine. I recently realized the source of my repugnance is the same as the reason I can’t ever get through the song “American Girl” by Tom Petty – it’s Hannibal Lecter’s fault. The Senator’s daughter innocently jamming out to the tune, just before being kidnapped by Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs, officially killed a once perfectly harmless – and arguably awesome – song.
While effective, psycho killers aren’t the only method of slaughtering a beautiful song. Alcohol-inspired sing-a-longs are also deft music killing machines. Thanks to the movie 27 Dresses, and every single nightclub in the entire city of Las Vegas, “Bennie and the Jets” and “Don’t Stop Believin’,” respectively, have each lost a coveted spot on my iPod.
TV show theme songs are also music assassins, but the death is long and torturous – often lasting for years. Can anyone still listen to The Who’s “Who Are You” or “Baba O’Riley” without visions of crime tape and blood spatter? And while I never personally enjoyed Paula Cole’s “I Don’t Wanna Wait,” I think Dawson’s Creek brought that song both to life and death.
Last, and absolutely least, commercials are the official graveyard of amazing songs. If it’s a car commercial, your song is safe. If it’s an Old Navy commercial (RIP “Only in My Dreams” and “Sister Christian”) then I highly recommend you hit mute or get a TiVo.
Some songs are immortalized by their on-screen presence. Just ask Kenny Loggins or the cast of My Best Friend’s Wedding. I’ll never be able to separate Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” from the train scene in Risky Business, or “Playing with the Boys” from Cruise and Kilmer’s glistening abs in Top Gun. Sure a movie montage here and there may briefly dampen the spirit of the song, but nothing brings my musical bliss to a screeching halt faster than the image of that creepy Buffalo Bill asking Katherine to “put the lotion in the basket” whenever Mr. Petty starts his croon. Incidentally, I also hate fava beans.
What’s the song you can’t ever listen to the same way again?