The shocking and the exhilarating, the A-list or A-team stars in iron-clad boots racing across the television screen, or the good hearted, tough-nosed crime cops investigating explosive, dramatic situations are what people often tune into to watch when they flick to their favorite channels in this day and age, but the show that has most dominated my five senses, or jolted them into submission rather, is one show most Americans all know and love, The Office: The American Version.
Please do not mistake my aims for this post, as I am a huge Ricky Gervais fan, so I would never rag on him consciously or even subconsciously, but I have to say that my American eyes, ears, nose, and all such others were somehow geared by divine providence towards the American version of The Office. What inspired this post (other than the sometimes dreary, sometimes beautiful creative-scenery-outlet of the Little Rock, Arkansas snow palace I have come to temporarily call home), is the fact that I turned on the television today in search of some more news about one of my favorite “newer” shows, Parks and Recreation, and of course, while sitting through Community (a great show that I somehow always miss, possibly because of the central time 7:00 slot), I could not help but notice that The Office was playing one of my favorite re-runs from Season 6, part two of the episode where Jim and Pam got married.
The question will always remain for temporary dissenters of reality television, why do we tune in to watch a group of people that we do not know? A scripted, often times severely unrealistic showcasing of hilarity in the true sense of the word? I did not fair well in my philosophy themed college courses, so I will not even guess, but I will do exactly just that, and chalk it up to some existential questioning of morals and all other such bullshit that does not make much sense to this often times, half-dedicated blog poster.
But back to the task at hand, a conquest that seems to always trouble me in these posting situations, but the real reason why I like The Office, is precisely the reasons I listed in my not so stunning or engaging introductory sentence. All of those things that other shows seem to claim whilst making their thematic allusions and plot twists have, in my humble opinion, all been achieved in legendary 6 seasons of The Office. I say 6 because, while I have made time to watch a few of the episodes of season 7, I have decided to wait until DVD time to witness the ones I missed. I have been abstaining from Hulu in this regard, because it pains me to see possibly the funniest man of our generation, Steve Carrell leave the desk. Although it pains me to see him leave, and while typing this rambling nonsensical post I have somehow managed to choke back the tears, this is not, I promise you, a post about Michael Scott, or even the short-lived, brilliant idea of The Michael Scott Paper Company.
The Office is a show that specializes in the mundane, making it socially acceptable by a whole legion of office goers to sit around their desks all day and do nothing productive, but play pranks on their neighbors. It is also a show that ingeniously captures the essence of a grueling 9-5 desk job, working at a company that seems to do things more ass-backwards than this blog owner, and manages to display a host of characters who, in some strange way, all bring something interesting and captivating to the television table. Although, as mentioned earlier, it pains me to see Steve Carrell go, we must continue in our dedication of The Office watching, as it is our unique job as adoring viewers to do so. I realize that it is often troubling to get out of the bed sometimes with this sort of news on the brain, we must trust that the genius writers behind the scenes of the show we love have something cooking in the works, and will reveal it to us in the last few episodes. I should state again that I have not watched enough of Season 7 to speculate, and aside from a few possible solutions to the problem, my imaginings were always thrown to the waste paper bin after watching the next episode.
Nearing 700-something words, it is best I end this post now, as I could probably write an entire novel about what The Office means to me, and at least 30 more pages in the form of an epilogue about the social, psychological, physiological, and emotional ramifications the actual Michael Scott exit will reap on mankind for generations upon generations of people, I will chalk this post up as a failure, and attempt to gain some sort of understanding of it in the future.