My addiction to TV movies began in high school. It may have been born out of empathy for their circumstance. Since they're not TV series or feature films, TV movies are always awkward by virtue of definition alone. Maybe it stemmed from my belief that happiness is possible despite amnesia, alcoholism or crimes of passion. Whatever the source of this psychosis, I've discovered it has positive effects on my life.
For starters, I have learned effective time management skills. For instance, if She's No Angel and Vows of Deception air back-to-back, I plan the rest of my schedule (homework, sleep, etc.) around Tracey Gold and Cheryl Ladd. The old me would have tried to compromise and plan my day around the things that need the most time, but who can say no to Tracey or Cheryl? Certainly not directors with soap opera career ambitions.
The second lesson I've learned is that bad boys aren't necessarily the ones to fear. Sometimes the stalker is the nondescript blonde guy with the J. Crew wardrobe overcome with an obsessive need to watch your condo from his Jeep. Now when I size up members of the opposite sex, I try to compile a rough psychological profile before I'm in too deep to recognize the danger music. It hasn't worked for me yet, but I remain optimistic.
In case I was thinking of reshuffling my priorities, now digital cable offers my apartment the Hallmark Movie Channel, which airs even more obscure TV movies starring my favorite B- to D-list celebrities. My saving grace so far is the channel's insistence on airing everything in Kenny Rogers' acting resume. But I fear the Hallmark Hall of Fame is right around the corner waiting to get me with their standard period romance, featuring several sets of grandparents and touching obstacles to overcome.
The most important thing TV movies have offered me is a sense of perspective. There's nothing like impending natural disaster and unrequited love to make me appreciate that the dullness of my own life is comforting and desirable. Especially when that unrequited love turns out to be the half brother the steely heroine never knew she had. There isn't a stress ball big enough for that.
Stephanie Hummel is a senior studying journalism. Enthrall her with your own adventures at sh213005@ohiou.edu.
3 Culture
Stephanie Hummel
