Several years ago, my mom kept mentioning a new show she
insisted was one of the best on television. At the time, I was
skeptical. It wasn't because I questioned her judgment, but I
really wasn't keen on getting involved with another series that
might end up cancelled. Television programming was not faring well
in 2008, and a writers' strike around the same time only reinforced
my assertion that Walter White and I were simply not meant to
Compounding the issue was a certain newborn determined to entice
me into the world of methamphetamines. Baby Joey refused to sleep
his entire first year of life, which meant yours truly also did not
sleep his entire first year of life.
My husband, on the other hand, slept like a champ.
If ever there was a mom who could've used some pharmaceutical
assistance to help get through sleepless nights and edgy days, it
was me. "Breaking Bad" and I definitely needed to stay far away
from each other. I had already caved in terms of one vice. Despite
shunning caffeine for my first 34 years on the planet, I was now a
full-blown addict. Starbucks was my bitch.
That line's for you, Jesse Pinkman.
As time went on, I would catch a few minutes here and there of
"Breaking Bad," and I knew my mom was indeed right. The show was
superb. From symbolism to soundtrack, acting to archetypes,
dialogue to denouement, no detail was overlooked. The little
glimpses I caught kept whispering over and over:
YOU NEED TO WATCH THIS SHOW, BITCH.
Sorry. I totally have Jesse Pinkman on the brain today.
Last month, Joe arrived home from the firehouse with a plastic
bag. He tossed it casually on the table and mumbled something about
how all the guys were "doing it."
Intrigued, I opened it up. And there it was. Season One. The
highly acclaimed show was now within my grasp, waiting to be
tasted. Joe and I could be the cool kids for once. Everyone would
like us. It was just ONE season. There's no real harm in just one
"Breaking Bad," as it turns out, is far more addictive than
I ordered Seasons 2 and 3 on Amazon and paid for two-day
I NEVER pay for two-day shipping.
But the DTs were coming.
For everyone who has watched the series finale about a man who,
as creator Vince Gilligan once described, "transforms himself from
Mr. Chips to Scarface," please don't tell me how the show ends.
It may have taken longer than most, but I finally understand the
appeal of breaking bad, vice, and doing something a bit naughty now
So for tomorrow?
I'm thinking DOUBLE espresso.
And "Duck Dynasty."
Bad, bad Marianne.
Marianne is mother of three sons and the wife of a southside Irish fireman. She has learned that sometimes you're just too dumb to know what makes you happy. She blogs regularly at We Band of Mothers (webandofmothers.com) and curses with even greater frequency. Her material is written for the imperfect, the imprudent, and the impatient mothers who know that all this stuff is really very funny if you just give it a minute.
See more of Marianne's stories here.
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