Somewhere in the middle of catching up on a backlog of Brothers & Sisters episodes this week, a strange and unexpected thing happened. I realized I’ve stopped giving a flying fig about a show I’ve loved and cherished for almost three whole seasons.
I don’t care about Rob Lowe’s annoying Senator McCallister and his crumbling marriage to Calista Flockhart’s Kitty (who always seems to be holding one of those “Reborn Dolls,” rather than an actual baby, when she’s cradling little Evan). I don’t care about the long and ridiculously strained and very, very dull courtship between Justin and Rebecca, nor about the tepid/creepy potential triangle the writers seem to be trying to set up with newfound Walker sib Ryan Lafferty. I don’t even care to attend another of Nora’s boozy dinner-party blowouts — no matter how good that Walker Landing sauce is! And therefore, tonight, at 10 p.m. EDT, I will be dramatically deleting my series recording of B&S.
Farewell, Kevin and Scottie! (I’ve a new favorite gay character on Southland.) Farewell, Sarah Jane Morris’s Julia! (I feel kind bad abandoning you just when you started getting interesting.) And farewell, Rachel Griffiths! (We’ll always have Six Feet Under on DVD, and the hope that someday you’ll land on another series that appreciates your complex, cable-ready talents.)
Anyone else want to join me in parting ways with the traditional Desperate Housewives chaser? Or am I foolish to jump ship so close to the third-season finale?