it's over. move to somnia.

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TARcon 4

I am an Internet TV geek. It is a long, slow process of realization, but at the point one finds oneself on the train to New York to watch a television show's season finale with a bunch of complete strangers in hopes of mingling with some of the show's stars--well, that's an undeniable fact. And that's where I found myself on Thursday.

The Amazing Race is not your average reality show. Contestants don't sit in a house all day or struggle to cook rice or jockey to marry one another; they run and fly and dive (and drive) and think. Over the course of 13 legs, they have to find their way around the world--in a given episode, they'll have to get from, say, Amsterdam to Bombay, load hay bales on an elephant, and navigate a crowded marketplace with any help they can get. They are eliminated not because their competitors have found any petty fault with them, but because their own luck and skill put them in last place on a particular leg. Better still, it involves teamwork: you're on the run with someone close to you (a friend or family member) and communication is paramount. This is a very good show. Consequently, its ratings have been permanently in the toilet--at least in the U.S. (Apparently, it has a very strong following in Asia.)

But there is a devoted core of American fans linked through the ether who have held a big party in Manhattan at the end of each season. They were surprised (and overjoyed) the first time to discover that many of the racers showed up. (Apparently, CBS had no interest in holding a celebration of its own. Their loss.) Having heard the descriptions from previous years' parties, being only three hours away by train, and knowing there's a good chance that this fourth season could be its last, I knew I had to go.

And I went. My schedule was somewhat thwarted by Amtrak: the train to NYC was over an hour late, which gave me under an hour to spent with some AmeriCorps friends I'd arranged to have a happy hour with. (But it was great to see them: Matt and Neene, you are patient and you rock.) Then the party got started...admission by prepurchase only, so no last-minute wanderers-in. It was intense. The episode itself was a crowd-pleaser, but an hour passes quickly. I have to admit that I spent well over another hour fighting to overcome my initial wallflowery inclinations, but it wasn't until around 11 that the racers started pouring in, and all of them--winners and losers, the on-screen pleasant and unpleasant--were given a hero's welcome. Oddly enough, I found that I wasn't able to make small talk with more than a few of the other fans and instead got swallowed up in conversation with the contestants. They were incredibly welcoming and very...physically affectionate. (I'll be curious to see how the pictures turned out.) Drunk and happy, yes.

It was agonizing to get on the train again at 3 am. Some evil part of my mind insisted that I had to be back in D.C. for the last day of classes (which, as it turned out, really wasn't necessary). Even before I'd arrived, I wished I were still in New York. But parties always end, and this one was no exception.

I guess it's appropriate that the culmination of my geekhood occurred just days before I give up all access to American television. It's probably a good thing...I need to spend more time outdoors.
peachy as always, Mike at 11:06 PM