Author Archives: Tim Elhajj

24: My Guilty TV Pleasure

When I first got out of treatment in NYC, I told my new girlfriend that I hardly ever watch TV. It was the beginning of the 90s and to impress her, I was trying to affect an intelligent, discriminating, new age kind of guy. The reality was I couldn’t afford a TV. A few weeks later on a Saturday morning I blew my cover when I woke up at her apartment, took the remote in hand, and eagerly tuned into World Wide Wrestling Federation.

“I thought you didn’t watch TV?” she asked. I chuckled demurely. 

But these days I really don’t watch that much TV. That’s no lie. Between my kid’s shows and my wife’s love of the Mariners, my puny little Tivo hardly has space for anything else. Reality TV leaves me cold. More importantly, I realized back in NYC that if I ever wanted to accomplish anything, I had to give up something, and TV is the great time waster. But I do believe there is a time for everything, even a time to waste time. When I do watch TV, I look for something very compelling: Sopranos, The Office, or maybe The West Wing

How, then, do I find myself watching 24?

In some ways, the show is utterly ridiculous. Jack Bauer gets tossed from an airplane at the start of one episode and he finishes that episode intact, with an itty bitty limp. The staff of the Counter Terrorist Unit rivals the crew of the original Star Trek series for their use of technical mubo-jumbo in dialogue: Open up a secure socket to the president on the double. Initiate inter-departmental protocols and reconfigure the routers. And make sure you TRIPLE FILTER EVERYTHING! To enjoy the show, you have to suspend disbelief, like you did when Scotty explains about the dylithum crystals and how “She cann’a take any more ‘a this.”

Thanks to the miracle of BitTorrent files, I have already seen the first four hours of the new season of 24, which was leaked to the Web last week and began airing last night and continues (I think) tonight. I’m excited. If the first four hours are any indication, this season could be the best of the bunch.

Why is 24 such a compelling show? Because the producers seem to understand the reasons why people watch and never stray very far from the original premise. I was watching an episode last year and the first few minutes was either building some sort of new plot point or resolving an old plot point. I was getting tired. Suddenly at minute eleven Jack Bauer storms into the White House and starts punching out the Chief of Staff.

I thought: fuckin’ A! This is why I watch 24.

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Live Long and Prosper

My daughter cracks me up.

She is eight years old and sometimes gets mixed up about things, but just blusters her way through. Lately she has been getting Catholicism and Star Trek confused. Sometimes she gives me the Vulcan hand greeting — palm up, fingers splayed — lowers her voice to a deep gravely tone and says, “Peace be with you, Daddy.”

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Christmas Spoilers

I hate spoilers. I was at a church social right after the last Harry Potter book came out. Everyone knew they had killed off a main character, but nobody knew who it was. I humiliated myself and my family by scowling at one of the church ladies who couldn’t resist spoiling the book. I expect more from church ladies.

Here is my favorite spoiler story: We were taking my daughter, who was 4 years old at the time, to a Christmas play and we had one of her friends in the car. My wife and I had just started attending Catholic church that year and my daughter was enjoying a mild surge of curiosity about Jesus. We played up the idea that Christmas was baby Jesus’ birthday and got a little nativity scene for the house. From the back seat, I heard my daughter start humming a little Christian tune, “Jesus Loves Me.”

Then I heard her little friend say this: “Jesus? He’s dead. They stuck pins in his feet and hands and killed him.”

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Frank McCourt is No Performer

Frank McCourt is one of my favorite writers. On my desk at work I keep a little Saint Francis statue in Frank’s honor. The childhood memoir I’m currently working on is modeled after Angela’s Ashes. I like how he doesn’t try to intellectualize about his relationship with his father. I like how he isn’t afraid to let the story speak for itself. He never pontificates beyond the glib message that the miserable Irish Catholic childhood is possibly the worst of all childhoods. And then he goes on to show you that this may very well be an understatement. You have to appreciate a story teller so talented.

But Frank McCourt is no performer.

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Alice Sebold Taught Me How to Write Fiction

Sometimes I am so out of it, I shock myself.

Alice Sebold taught fiction writing at Hunter college in the early 90s, but I didn’t realize until last night that Alice is now the bestselling author of The Lovely Bones  and Lucky. She was one of my favorite teachers.

The last time I spoke with Alice she was leaving NYC to be the resident writer at some sort of writing retreat in California.  She said she had just discovered she  would be getting less than $500 a month in salary and wanted to know  what I thought. I said, “It could be worse.” I am so glad I didn’t say  something caustic. From her Wikipedia entry, it looks like she went from the  retreat to University of California: Irvine and the rest is–as they say–history.

I have no excuse for why I lost track of Alice until last night. For the past two years I have read primarily memoir and have even fingered the spine of her memoir, Lucky, in the book store. Somehow I just didn’t put it together. I am very happy. Success couldn’t have happened to a more deserving writer than Alice Sebold. I am also going to include her name prominently on all my future submissions: Tim Elhajj studied with Alice Sebold.

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