TV is bad for you.

While feeding Mister Man tonight (yes, he still gets a 10pm bottle. We are working on it.) I decided to watch Prime Time Investigates, a weekly television series that looks into the cause an effect of current issues. Drugs, sex, rock and roll. All that. Tonight's show was "The Fall of the Celtic Tiger" or some other melodramatic title that manages to make the phrase "celtic tiger" more annoying than it already was. I'm usually pretty good at telling the difference between what is actually dramatic and what is made dramatic for television. Tonight, either my radar wasn't on, or the shit has really hit the fan and now I am well aware of it.

I knew thing were tough. I know several people who have lost their jobs in the last few months and me and Bub have discussed our future financial position on a few occasions. I wasn't living under a golden, diamond incrusted rock. Bub and I are extremely lucky and I KNOW IT. We are both employed at the moment. However, I am fully aware that at any moment our luck could run out. And then I'd have to live with my mother in law. I love my mother in law, I really do, but she takes pleasure in doing laundry. HOW DOES SOMEONE LIVE LIKE THAT? I couldn't take that much well intentioned insanity. And I don't think she would let me watch The Hills on Sunday.

Now, I'm just worried. I worry about our jobs, apartment, savings, child, LIFE and I'm not sure how people who are properly in a bad position, people who are losing their jobs and their houses are actually coping. I cried while watching Prime Time tonight because I legitimately felt horrible for the woman who didn't pay her mortgage since 2002 and her house is now being repossessed by the bank. I feel badly for the Romanian family who only had one little construction income coming in and was told he was likely to be laid off in two weeks. I feel badly for the homeless guy who is living behind a relocated Bank of Scotland in Dublin city centre. These stories, although sometimes played out for the camera, involve real people and for once I am having a hard time making it an "us" and "them" scenario in my head. Did the sad music and faces add to the intensity of my emotions? Yes, definitely. Does it make it any less scary? Absolutely not.

And really there is nothing more than I can do except hope that everything works out for the best and that RTE finds programming that doesn't scare the crap out of me. The summer is coming and Reeling in the Years should be on again. Ah, the good times.

Leave a comment -

Liz in Dublin