As mes fidèles lecteurs aimant know, I do not watch television, except when it is necessary (the Academy Awards, for example). However, because you know everything about moi (my life is an open book with only some of the pages torn out), I feel I must throw myself on your mercy and confess:
I have become completely addicted to the television programme “House MD,” starring Hugh Laurie. Last night I even pleaded a headache to an important event so that I could stay home and watch the latest episode! I have NEVER done that, dear readers!
For an intimate evening, yes, but never for television.
I became aware of Hugh Laurie on television as the idiotic twit Bertie Wooster (along with Stephen Fry) in the delightful British series “Jeeves and Wooster,” based on the P.G. Wodehouse stories. In fact, I only saw Hugh Laurie playing idiotic upper-crust twits, in the many variations of “Blackadder” starring Rowan Atkinson, the gentleman leering at the top.
So it was a complete shock to see him, with stubble and gruff American accent, playing Dr. House. So much so, in fact, that it took me over a year to be able to watch the programme without giggling whenever Hugh Laurie spoke, and not because of the wit of the dialogue. He seemed so deeply miscast.
Although he is a huge improvement over Alan Alda, who annoyed me in “M*A*S*H*”, as a child, the few times dear darling Mama let me near a television set. (She disapproved and preferred that I read elevating books or fashion magazines.)
But then a close friend, who felt sorry for my isolation while I am engaged in my literary endeavors, gave me the first three seasons on DVD. Dear readers, I watched him. And soon I was, as they say, hooked. I will not be writing about it much in this blog-thing, because for one thing my assistant can hardly contain her snickering–
CUT THAT OUT, YOU BLOODY FOOL! IN THIS ECONOMY THERE ARE A MILLION OTHER PEOPLE WHO WOULD LEAP AT THIS JOB!
Excusez-moi. As I was saying, I will not be writing about it here, because I am already embarrassed enough, and this is a place to discuss Fashion In The True Sense. Medical shows do not have much of that (particularly with all of that blood—ugh). However, I will opine that Lisa Edelstein’s wardrobe is particularly lovely, and for a slender woman she does have a divine bosom.
Dieu merci, they keep that skeletal Olivia Wilde in a hospital coat much of the time. In any event, last night’s episode had me on the edge of my divan, and I look forward to more.
I feel so cleansed. Merci, dear readers. (And one hopes that Dr. Taub does indeed commit suicide, as they keep hinting, although that seems a tad obvious.)
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog