Watching the Voice

I do watch television. Most nights, even. After having a 5 year drought from TV, which I immensely enjoyed, it’s a little strange now to see certain values in television. On one hand, you can argue I’ve simply diversified my mediums. But, on the other, it’s strange having succumbed to the boob tube.

Every season I pick one show I will watch, guilt free. For a while it was Desparate Housewives, Heroes (season 2), parts of the Event or Chuck, and now I find myself watching the Voice! These judging shows are perhaps the most entertaining with ther formulaic conclusions and control.

This particular show bragged to be different. It showcases 4 starts who are in their early to mid thirties (egads my age!), who have all had about 15 years of success in the music industry. They are tasked with picking a team, blindly, based on their voice to compete against each other within their teams and throughout the larger group. Eventually, America is brought in for the judging and results are furhter narrowed. Tomorrow is the finale episode where we find out who wins.

What I have enjoyed about this show is it’s nostolgaic flashbacks and ability to allow me to generally fold laundry while it plays. Plot shows don’t give me the same flexibility. With these singing shows, I can close my eyes and halve Levi’s pants in perfect piles while gettign a simlar affect. Seeing is more important for some other shows.

But, really, it’s the nostalgia that’s got me. They are singing the songs of my youth and choosing modern songs that are reminiscent of my youth. The judges have sang “We are the Champions” and now tongiht “Under Pressure“. I flash back t o Vanilla Ice, 8th grade, french rolled pants, and black and white patterns.

I usually recognize TV in its importance for allowing me to unwind, but flash backs to youth are an added bonus.

Enhanced by Zemanta