Lest you think I’ve lost my mind, rest assured that I’m only a little mad. And Baby Boomers will know I’ve taken the quote in my title from the movie Network.

I recognize and understand that I’m no longer part of the target demographic for most forms of entertainment. The dream demographic is apparently 18 to 54, which I ain’t. But does that mean the only thing I have left to watch on television are Dick Van Dyke and Rhoda reruns? Is Fantasy Island the only place I’m welcome (where I’m forced to listen to Tattoo yell again and again “De plane, de plane?” Egad.

My television is inundated with reality shows showing swamp people babbling something I can’t understand or toddlers wearing make-up and tiaras that would make Barbie blush or housewives of somewhere or the other with plunging necklines and little else. That’s fine. I will not complain one little bit about reality shows if you will just give me a program or two that I can enjoy. I won’t complain about shows that are so graphically violent that I can’t believe they are on any time before 11 p.m. (i.e. The Blacklist and The Following) if you will just let me have a couple of programs that I can watch without covering my eyes.

The cause of all of my angst is that I just read that they are making big changes on Dancing with the Stars. (Communal groan – I hear you and I know who you are.) They have released Brooke Burke-Charvet, who at the beginning was so dumb that she literally made me cringe when she opened her mouth, but has completely grown on me. I spend so much of the time when she’s on the screen yelling, “Eat a hamburger for crying out loud!” She looks starved, but nevertheless, I was fond of her.

But perhaps even worse, they have fired Harold Wheeler and his 30-person band, and will reportedly replace it with recorded music and a smaller electronic band. All this to make the show more interesting to that sacred target demographic 18-54 year olds. Seriously? Folks, LISTEN TO ME. Those revered 30-somethings are not going to watch ballroom dancing. Spiffy music or no.

Just throw the Baby Boomers a bone! Let us have our Cloris Leachmans and Buzz Aldrens. We need them to make us feel better about ourselves, for heaven sakes. I need to watch overweight former child stars dance a waltz with a bare-chested hunk.  I don’t even mind if the so-called “stars” are completely unknown to me as long as they continue to dance the quick step.

Phew. I needed to get that off my chest.

But here’s a couple of other things I’ve been thinking about as long as we’re talking about television.

Am I the only one who thought the Olympics this year were kind of boring? Perhaps it’s because the skiers didn’t have any snow. Or maybe it was disconcerting that the most exciting gold medal won by the USA was in ice dancing. (And don’t get me wrong. I like ice dancing. See above.) I was completely disappointed in both the opening and closing ceremonies. Maybe if the closing ceremonies had featured Russian tanks driving into the Ukraine. Otherwise it felt a little too propaganda-ish to me. Russia. Go figure.

And what is up with Nashville? I really liked that show in the beginning. It has gotten to be so dumb that Bill and I do nothing but make wise cracks for the entire hour. Seriously, if I have to watch Scarlet wimper her way into drug oblivion, it will simply DO ME IN! And do the writers really expect us to believe that Juliette Barnes’ fans would be boycotting her because she had an affair with a married man? Seriously? They are shocked that a famous singer/movie star type person had an affair? With a married man? PULEEEZE.

But on a more positive note, wasn’t it so nice to have the Downton Abbey season finale end with Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes holding hands in the ocean instead of having a beloved main character careen off the side of the road to his death hours after the birth of his son? And the costumes were splendid. Good job Julian Fellowes. Setting my alarm for next January. Can’t wait.

Now I have to go. I hear the theme song to Green Acres playing…..

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