The M.A.S.H. Analogy and Mean Humor. Also, Is It Time To Change The Name Of This Blog?

I was reading a piece in Slate by Joanna Weiss about how the trend of mean-spirited sitcoms seems to be dying down. By "mean-spirited" I'm not just talking about snarky humor and sarcasm, but shows like "Two and a Half Men," which the article held up as an example of the genre. Shows like that or like "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" derive their humor mostly through outrage and schadenfreude, as completely unsympathetic characters do unbelievably selfish and often stupid things, then get exactly what they deserve. (Or not, in which case we get to chuckle over the fact that they somehow got away with it).
This is all undeniably funny, and in it's own way is a backlash against the syrupy lesson-in-every-episode type of family sitcom that came before, but eventually it becomes as much of a formula as the shows it was originally meant to mock, and the humor pendulum begins its swing from sarcasm back to sincerity.
Of course, the other problem with that type of show is that the characters, by nature, are not very sympathetic at all. If you actually liked and identified with them you'd be outraged at their behavior, but as it is it becomes like watching a nature documentary about some weird species of reptile: they're not really human, so when they bite the head off their own young it's much more excusable and queasily fascinating. 
Most sitcoms need to have a "jerk" to act as the foil for the main character, and to occasionally add a little humorous outrage, but it seems that those characters are more interesting when they're also human beings with sympathetic qualities.
I'd use the show "M.A.S.H." as an example (other long-running shows like "The Simpsons" work equally well, but there's a great test case to be had here). The two central wise-cracking doctors, Pierce and Hunnicutt, had a nemesis for the entire run of the show, other than the actual war. There were two characters who filled that role, and one of the was way better than the other.
The first was Major Frank Burns, who was more of a stereotypical Jerk character. Burns was a cowardly, incompetent suckup, who was quick to pull rank on other characters and suck up to authority. His general lack of likability and hypocrisy made him a frequent butt of jokes by more sympathetic characters, giving the viewer the pleasure of watching them "win" over the Jerk.
However, eventually Burns left the show and was replaced by a much more interesting, funnier and more nuanced character named Charles Winchester (the Third). Charles was a top-class surgeon from a wealthy Boston WASP family. He was an arrogant snob, disdainful of popular culture and his fellow co-workers and made it clear that he though his assignment in a battlefield hospital was far beneath him.
BUT, he was also a brilliant surgeon and had a strong sense of honor, humor and fair play. And as his character developed (character development being another option not offered in the "no hugging, no learning" school of comedy writing) he came to exhibit some surprisingly sentimental and admirable characteristics. This made the war of put-downs and practical jokes between him and his co-workers a lot easier to relate to, after all, who doesn't like to mess with their friends just a bit?
In the "mean" comedy, every character is like a Frank Burns, and while it's funny to laugh at them getting their comeuppance, it's really hard to put yourself in their shoes (good God, at least I HOPE it is!). Personally, while that's funny for a short time, if I can't find something sympathetic with the characters, I'll eventually get bored with the show (probably why Seinfeld put me to sleep. There I said it, I hated Seinfeld). The trick is, of course, to find a good balance between sweet feel-good comedy (which is hardly ever actually funny) and mean-spirited comedy (which, like Taco Bell, can be hard to resist when its in front of you, but will leave you feeling queasy and unfulfilled ten minutes later).
We'll see whether there's anything to what Miss Weiss had to say, I'd like to see some better-rounded stuff out there. While I've enjoyed watching some of the "mean" stuff, I'm starting to thing that if all I want to do is watch selfish, stupid people making asses of themselves on screen, I may as well just be watching reality shows.



In other news: I've long since gotten out of the habit of updating this on any sort of schedule, so maybe "The Daily DeBlass" is not really an appropriate title. It may be time for a change, so I'm taking suggestions for a new blog title.

Learning to be Slow

Just about ten years ago, I bought a new bicycle. I wanted something sturdy and versatile, and bought myself a cyclocross bike, with dropped handlebars and off-road brakes. I coulnd't afford two good bicycles, so I figured that this would handle aggressive road riding as well as light trail and touring use. It was a fast bike, not the most comfortable thing on two wheels, but I put it to use in some all-day rides anyway. After replacing just about every part on it I finally sold off the frame few years ago, with the idea that I'd build up a new road bike with the parts I'd hung on to. Unfortunately, the car broke down and I ended up spending my frame money on the infernal combustion machine, so I could get to work. The new bike never got built.

About a week ago, I bought another new bike, my first one in a decade (I've had other ones in the interim, but they've been assembled out of second-hand frames and fourth-hand parts, often as not held together by MacGuyver-like improvisations and zip ties. Not one of them has actually been big enough to be a comfortable fit for my six-foot-plus self). Just like a decade ago, I can't afford two good bikes (a breif period of relative financial security, if not exactly prosperity, fell victim to the Great Recession, just like it has for so many others), so I had to get something that would satisfy my need for commuting, road riding, some weekend touring and light trail use. This time, however, I got a bike with swept back “North Road” style handlebars, an 8-Speed internally geared hub and fenders. It's closer in spirit to a mid-20^th Century British three-speed than a Belgian mixed-course racing machine. It's more “tweed jacket” than “lycra shorts.” I even put a bell on the handlebars.

So what changed? Why not get another cyclocross bike, or a mountain bike with slick tires, or anything more aggressively styled? The obvious answer is that I'm not in as good shape as I was at 25, but that's not it. If I ride enough (and with gas prices and frequent breakdowns, leaving the car in the driveway is not a hard choice most days), I'll be able to move at a good clip before too long. Already, after a week of riding, some of the hills are feeling noticably smaller and some of my routes feel a bit quicker. Am I suffering an attack of retro-grouch nostalgia, and trying to recreate the club riding experience of half a century ago? Maybe a little, but it's not a replica of an old bike, it's a modern, aluminum machine which while it may be inspired by those old roadsters, is a lot lighter and has some nice upgrades (like a bigger range of gears). Maybe it's because it looks cool and it impresses women? Well, yeah, but I can do that on any type of bike.

I think a huge part of the reason is that after all these years of riding I really want a bike that I can just hop on and GO. No special shoes (I have not intention of putting clipless pedals on this thing, or even toe straps and clips. Just plain old flats for me, thanks), no funny shorts (although I may find myself wearing liners or shorts with padding for longer trips) and no need to tuck my pant leg into my sock (it's got a chain guard). The riding position is upright enough that I can wear my regular raincoat when it rains, and sling my leather briefcase over my shoulder without it getting too uncomfortable. I wear sneakers, dress shoes or even sandals, not lugging a change of shoes everywhere I ride. I don't have to spend 20 minutes getting prepped to ride, I just have to figure out where I left my cell phone, squeeze the tires to make sure they're pumped up, and roll.

The new bike is slower than my drop-bar bikes have been (not by much, judging by the time it takes to get places and the readouts on those radar signs, but definitely a couple MPH), but that's OK, because I'm also learning the value of taking it easy sometimes. If I'm riding to work, it's nice to be able to wear my work clothes instead of having to pack a change, and if I want to show up without looking like I've been swimming to work, that means staying at an exertion level that doesn't make me sweat too much. It's the difference between “brisk walk” and “jogging” paces. Because I'm in a relaxed stance, I don't feel that subconscious pressure to race everywhere, and I'm certainly not riding a bike that I'll ever find myself saying “I may race this one day,” so I don't have the need to live up to that kind of thinking either.

I think, when it comes down to it, this says a lot about who I am these days, I'm no longer out to prove anything to myself (except perhaps that I can find a halfway decent job again, but that's another blogging topic altogether) but hope to be able to sit back and enjoy the ride a bit more.