Ci #57 -- This American Life Episode #233

I recently relistened to one of my favorite episodes of This American Life -- #233 “Starting from Scratch.”

I like it for mainly one reason: The Puppy Channel. Act 1 chronicles the trials and tribulations of a former ad man (Molly Fitzsimmons’ father) who in retirement tried to launch a TV network of all puppies, all the time.

No people. No talking. Just puppies. Simply contemplating the idea makes me happy.

It probably would have done the same for millions of other people, if it had only, well, check out the episode.

Upon this relistening, the prologue, however, failed to pass the CCI bullshit test.

Why?

Jorge Just had recently moved to New York City to start over. [Spoiler alert: I will spoil this for you. This post doesn’t make sense otherwise.] He had a steady job and E. Village studio apartment other NY-ers described as “a find.” He was doing well, until…

He happened to be watching an episode of The Bachelorette, where the Bachelorette herself comes to visit one of her potential temporary soul mates in his NYC apartment. As it turns out, it’s in the same building as Jorge’s. In fact, it’s one floor below and is basically the same apartment.

Eventually, in a moment every bit as real as my very first slow clap, the Bachelorette and her producers decide to dump this guy because of his tiny apartment.

Jorge takes this personally. Really personally. Like a bitch, honestly. Pardon my language. He actually starts to believe he has failed at life because he has the same apartment for which someone on The Bachelorette got dumped.

Why was Jorge taking it like a bitch?

He was missing one huge point: this means that HIS APARTMENT IS BIG ENOUGH TO SHOOT IN. Anyone who’s ever worked in TV or film in NYC knows that a) shootable apartments are hard to find and b) their own aparments are probably not shootable.

Jorge also decides to internalize a story in the NY Post – always a good idea – where they call what’s essentially his apartment “squalid.” Here’s a little tip Jorge, when reading Post (or Daily News) stories, always distill their adjectives at least 2 degrees (or perhaps all the way down to zero) to get the actual meaning.

Squalid --> Cramped --> Small --> Normal.

Ain't no thang. So cheer up, Jorge. Oh, and by the way, if you actually want to be happy in NYC, don’t read the Post. Then you shall have truly made it.