Jury is out on lawyer shows
By ARYN CORLEY
Let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, I captured a genie and she gave me one wish.I use the pronoun “she” because I’m envisioning someone very attractive like Barbara Eden or Laura Bush. Oooh, yeah!
I digress.
Most people would have a problem deciding what to have if they were given the means to have anything in the world. Not me. I know exactly what I’d ask for.
Would I wish for more money? No. More money would launch me into a new tax bracket and make me very sad. However, it would be nice to hear from all of my long-lost relatives.
Would I wish for immortality? No way. The thought of sitting in a post apocalyptic wasteland explaining to a cockroach about how Paula Abdul had gotten elected president, then launched a whole arsenal of nuclear missiles at the world in a final act of retribution against Simon Cowell, to me, is depressing. Yet, not as much as the thought of the cockroach actually finding the whole story interesting.
If I had the power to wish for anything in the world, anything at all, I’d wish for one thing: another lawyer show on television.
I think this would be a very thoughtful wish. Sure. World peace would be a noble thing to ask for, but when everyone’s not fighting how are we going to be entertained? Ending world hunger is pointless when those villages and shanty towns don’t even have cable television. As soon as you take away a person’s hunger, that person will fight you for control of the remote.
In the morass of mindless entertainment, there has got to be room for at least one more lawyer show.
Every channel has a lawyer show these days.
My kids were watching Sesame Street the other day and Big Bird was being cross examined by Oscar the Grouch.
There’s also a new show called “Law and Order: Mattress Tag Unit.” I don’t know what the onomatopoeia is for the Law and Order show but it sounds to me like: “CHONG CHONG!”
My wife likes a show called “Drop Dead Diva.” It’s about the ghost of a woman who comes back into another woman’s body and practices law. Wow. A loophole around the state bar exam. Why pay for years of law school when all it takes is a metaphysical mix-up? If I were to be reincarnated, I would probably come back as a set of veterinarian’s latex gloves. The really long ones.
Anyway, my law show would be better than anything ever seen on television. It would be in real time, too. Forty-five minutes plus commercials is way too soon for legal disputes to be settled. The episode regarding copyright infringement would last at least seven years.
In Hollywood, there’s an old adage: Too many chefs spoil the broth. But, if one of those chef’s is Charo — it’s all good!
I’d have Charo and a cast of about a hundred actors (all of whom have legal troubles of their own. Yes, I’m talking to you Gary Coleman) all pretending to be attorneys. The difference between a mob and an ensemble is subtle. Since the show would also need to appeal to a younger generation, at least one of the lawyers would be a vampire.
Finally, my show would have take place in some hip and trendy place. New York, Boston, Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco, and Seattle have all been played out as story locations. Still, there remains one place which has yet to be tapped by the legal profession.
The moon.
