Prescription Television

“You can either sink or you can fly,” my handsome doctor said to me. “So now then Dear Patient, what’s it gonna be?”

“Fly high-a-way in the sky, natur-ally.”

“If you are absolutely certain? It’s a lot easier to sink. What was it you said about your favourite film, Falling Down? Letting go is easier than–”

“KEEPING HOLD.”

A nod from my married handsome doctor implied he seemed to be able to agree with that. He often shared his mortgage and insurance anxieties with me. Could level with a home boy, when he wanted to, in his svelte suit, suave shoes, and lacquered haircut.

“I prescribe, for YOU,” he said, in his holier-than-thou accent, like some sorta magician revealing his signature trick, “Season One, of Everwood.”

Everwood? I knew of a restaurant called Evenwood, but no television series called Everwood.

Good ‘ole married handsome wedding-ring-wearing ‘doc scribbled the details on a note, then leaned across to push it towards the edge of a desk worth more than my first two cars. “Everyday, on Freeview Channel E4. It’s repeated, so unless you wake up after one pm, you’ll never miss it.”

I was curious. ”Is it like Smallville?” I asked. “Or Dirty Sexy Money?” Those were the only two Yankee TV dramas I knew about. And West Wing.

“Have you ever seen One Tree Hill, or Eli Stone, or Brothers and Sisters?”

“Is Brothers and Sisters the one with Emily VanCamp in it?”

My pompous good ‘ole married handsome wedding-ring-wearing ‘doc clicked his fingers like a rebel pimp. “That’s what I’m talking about! Just her storyline alone will soften your heart. In Everwood, she is younger, and will reawaken your teenage dreams. Make you whole again.”

“Those dreams were not bad,” I said. “I think I will give this Everwood a try.” Lord knows I'd been fractured by the likes of X-Factor.

That I did, and upon the closure of episode 22, I sought to seek the remaining 3 seasons. This was my life now, and I based my entire diary around it. Everwood, Emily.

by TAZ

© Okus Pocus

DNM Fiction 2012 edition