​​​​​​Because humor is funnier when you know it's true.

That television show you love doesn't make you interesting


At a recent dinner party, I was seated next to a woman in her 70s, who, my hostess had told me, ran a successful business, was involved in both her synagogue and in local politics, and had enjoyed a long and happy marriage.     

I was looking forward to hearing about her life, perhaps even receiving some accumulated wisdom. I’m in my 60s, and I figured I need all the help I can get to navigate the next decade. Plus, as a writer, I’m fascinated by life stories.

But all she wanted to talk about was “Poldark.”

“Poldark” is a British television series about Captain Ross Poldark, a redcoat who returns to Cornwall after the American Revolutionary War, only to find that his father is dead, his lands are in ruins, and his true love is about to marry someone else.  

Ross Poldark is a fictional character, but my dinner companion spoke of him, with enthusiasm and at great length, as if he were real. She seemed intent on telling me, in detail, about everything that had happened on the show so far. (And the show had been running for several seasons.)

“I don’t care about ‘Poldark,’” I wanted to tell her. “And if I did, I could watch his show myself. Can’t we talk about something else?”

I’m guessing that she had stories to tell about herself that were just as interesting as whatever was happening to Ross Poldark — which, from what she was telling me, seemed to involve some kind of a love triangle.

I’d rather hear about her own love triangles! Or, if she didn’t have any, the secret of her enduring marriage.

“How do you pull that off?” I wanted to ask. “Was it all smooth sailing? How do the two of you deal with conflict? Did you ever want to leave?”