So I'm in a bit of a funk this morning because one of my favorite shows, "Once and Again," had its final episode last night, complete with crying and hugging cast members at the end. It's ridiculous to care about a TV show, I know, and hard to get too upset about this cancellation because television is a business first and foremost, and "O&A" is definitely  not a show that appeals to everyone. I'd like to think that the little niche of fans to whom I belong could be valuable to a network; hey, I buy stuff. But apparently we're not as valuable as the people who watch "The Bachelor," or the communicating-with-the-dead show that's taking over the time slot. Those are niches that I'm really, really glad not to be part of, so I'll take my grief standing up.

 

Still ... it's been nice to have a little respite on Monday nights (or Friday nights, or Wednesday nights, or wherever ABC chose to bury the show that week). I think I'm getting late-onset ADD, because there are so few shows anymore that hold my attention. This one did, and now there's one fewer. Maybe this means I'll have more time to read the all those important books about learning disabilities and neurological problems that keep stacking up on me. Maybe it means I'll finally write those notes I've been meaning to, to teachers and child study team folks and special-ed dept. weasels. Maybe it means I'll get a jump on these columns, and not be writing them feverishly in the mornings while the kids eat their breakfasts. Or maybe it means I'll flop on the bed, flip through the channels, find nothing, and fall asleep in my clothes. Aw, you know, it's not the end of the world. Not even close. But I still feel sad.