Me, Myself & Grey’s Anatomy

Every Thursday evening at about 8:01 I ask myself why I’m still watching Grey’s Anatomy. I turn off the television and I say to myself, “Michael, why are you still watching Grey’s Anatomy?” I think about that question and I realize I don’t have a good answer for myself. In addition to that, I think – for the 14^th time this season – that I dislike most of the current cast. Bailey was never one of my favorites, but I don’t like her anymore. I used to like Jo but I don’t like her anymore either. I don’t like DeLuca and I don’t like Riggs and I can’t stand Edwards, Pierce, Murphy, Shepherd, Minnick or Catherine.

“You know what, Michael? I don’t know why I’m still watching.” I answer myself.

“There must be some reason.”

“Well,” I say. “I like the Chief (yes, I still refer to Webber as the “Chief”) a lot. And I like Grey and Karev even though they haven’t been featured very much this year. And Ben and Arizona are OK.”

I’m not convinced and I apply the pressure to myself. “That’s it, three characters and two, ‘Meh’?”

“I like Bokhee.”

“Huh?”

“Bokhee. She’s that nurse who’s in the operating room a lot.”

“Oh.” I pause wondering how I even know her name. “Does she ever have any lines?”

“I think she’s had a few over the years.”

I’m getting frustrated and feeling confrontational now. ““A few over the years”. So you like only three characters, dislike twice that many, have two that are just ‘Meh’ and one who never has any dialogue or is involved in any storyline? Tell me why you’re still watching.”

I sure know how to push my buttons and I’m feeling the pressure. “Well, I forgot Avery and Hunt and I like them both even though Avery doesn’t do much and they’ve pretty much taken Hunt and turned him from this confident, rugged and flawed character into little more a wimpy milksop. And . . .”

I’m struggling for more.

I see myself struggling and I don’t let myself off that easy. “What about the storylines? The drama?”

“Uh, they’re not so interesting or as much fun as they used to be.”

“And yet you continue to watch. Tell me why you’re still watching.”

“I already asked me that.”

“Well, I didn’t answer myself. Tell me why you’re still watching.”

Before I can answer I ask speak up again. “Wait, who’s Catherine?”

“Jackson’s mom, the Chief’s wife?”

“Oh, Debbie Allen.”

“Yeah.”

“She was good in Fame.”

“She was great in that movie!”

“I love that movie!”

“Me too. Remember the lunch room scene where they all . . . Wait, let’s get back to Grey’s. You don’t like anyone on the show anymore so tell me why you’re still watching.”

“I’m watching because . . . “

“Yes?”

“Because I . . .”

“I’m waiting.”

“You don’t have to pressure me so much. I’m trying to tell you why and you keep talking over me. What, now you have nothing to say?”

“I’m keeping quiet so you can answer.”

“Oh.”

“So? Tell me why you’re still watching.”

And then it hits me. I look myself in the face and tell myself why I’m still watching. “You know how you had friends years ago back in high school and how over the years you just drifted apart? You all went your own way and started your own lives? Well, even though you’ve grown apart they’re still old friends and you don’t want to lose touch and when you see each other, whenever that is, it feels good; it feels comforting.”

“So it’s just a Thursday night habit?”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Or little more than meatloaf.”

“Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not mocking you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m . . .”

“And you do it a lot.”

“And you do it a lot.”

“See?”

“Go to bed.”

“I’ll go to be when I’m tired.”

“You’re tired now.”

“How do you know? You’re not me.”

“Yes I am.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Next Thursday?”

“Next Thursday.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”