“I don't understand why everyone loves Marissa. I mean, she used Ryan and she always makes Summer feel bad. Marissa sucks as a human being,” my lifelong best friend Kristen says as she chugs down a mango margarita.
“Me neither, man. I think she thinks her emotions are more important than everyone else's. Everyone else has way worse stuff to deal with. But no! Marissa's silly problems somehow outweigh it,” I reply back, sipping an Italian sparkling wine.
Perhaps we are discussing some old high school buddies?
Not a chance. Most of them are still living the same lives they had in high school… nothing that is gossip worthy enough to dish on a regular basis.
Instead, we discuss the finer points of one of the most misunderstood television shows in the history of broadcasting: The O.C.
When it was first aired as a summer filler show back in 2003, executives at Fox thought it would last six episodes tops. Instead, the show outperformed expectations and went on for four seasons.
Back in high school (there it is again!), my friends and I absolutely obsessed over The O.C. I specifically remember being at an A.P. History study session with my teacher and my classmates (going to a small country school provided one with such luxuries).
It was a Thursday night. We were all freaking out. Not because we had the A.P. test the following Tuesday, not because we had to memorize a billion pages of information and already forgotten about the War of 1812… but because The O.C.'s season finale would be airing at 7 pm. We couldn't miss this.
I realize how easily teenagers can be swayed into thinking a television show is more pressing than potential college credit. But we were all overachievers headed to universities, a real rarity for my hometown, a place where most kids joined the military or went to community college for nursing associates degrees.
In my travels and experiences, I meet all sorts of people. Inevitably when I met people born from 1986 to 1988, they love The O.C. The characters on the show fully represent our age group, caught somewhere firmly in between the kids who lived in the shadow of Kurt Cobain's death (1982-1985) and the kids who live their lives online (1989-1991). Us 86 to 88ers love The O.C. to a ridiculous degree. During my second year of college, I sat next to a boring girl in Art Appreciation. We didn't talk about anything but The O.C., even though more pressing issues (like Art exams) were on the proverbial table.
Chuck Klosterman argued the same thing for his generation and Saved by the Bell. However, Saved by the Bell wasn't even trying to be a good show, with its inconsistent story line, after school special writing, and cheesy acting. I mean, seriously: Who actually believed that high school was the Land of Milk and Honey? This show was an artifact from the pre-Columbine days of yore, when entertainment glamorized high school to a ridiculous degree.
The O.C. had excellent writing, production, filming, and acting: the best of everything. Even though the setting (Newport Beach, California) and the people (oh, wow, Adam Brody!! Ben McKenzie!!) were impeccably beautiful, the show possessed a rare, gritty quality.
The story lines were so dark without being preachy or campy. One episode particularly sticks out in my mind: the gang decides to journey to Tijuana, Mexico during a school holiday. Instead of having the happy happy typical television break, Marissa ODs on alcohol and pills. Ryan must save her. It was the most perfect teen drama ever aired.
I tried explaining this to my Mom and Dad (born in 1955 and 1957, part of the All in the Family generation). They just don't get it. I don't think they ever will. I am okay with this development.
