It’s not you, it’s me - A Netflix breakup
2021 marches on but, like an out-of-town fraternity brother who extends his uninvited visit, the coronavirus lingers. Lessons of 2020, therefore, remain instructive.
Like many cooped up lovebirds last year, my wife Devin and I binge-watched many shows together, utilizing streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime. It’s been one of the pandemic’s few silver linings.
In hindsight, there might have been too much television-togetherness. So after some introspection, and recalling this kind of thing is best done in public places, here it goes:
I am leaving you, my love, because at this stage of our relationship we want different things. Specifically, I want to watch Season Three of “Cobra Kai”, a guilty pleasure, but you remain too far behind. It’s past time for talking; you’ve had all winter to catch up on episodes. Are you Karate-Kidding me?
Clearly, there’s bad mojo in our dojo, something I can no longer ignore utterly without consequence, like the schwa. The new season dropped weeks ago, and you care not a whit about the show-distance between us. So I’ll put it out there: I am moving on this spring, and streaming content alone.
Sure, we had some good times together in bleak 2020, you and I, before television’s pale glow. But I’ve come to realize I need more me-time at must-see time.
Don’t act surprised, my dove. Deep down you realize when choosing content, our tastes differ. You know it, I know it and, based on its recommendations, Netflix’s algorithm knows it. You cackled through “Derry Girls”, while I’ve solemnly tried to fill a show hole ever since finishing “Endeavour”.
I don’t begrudge your happiness. There’s no judgment here. It’s just who we are and where we are. We’re on different paths, in different places on our smart TV journey. That’s our truth.
Please know it’s not you, it’s me. You deserve a content-streaming partner who loves the splendid tapestry that is your show-choices. I am not this man. Nor am I, a member of the “Spies Like Us” century-viewing club, all that and a bag of chips in your eyes.
The truth is, I’m holding you back. Seriously, I am holding you back from foisting another episode of “Bloodline” on me. Confess your crimes, Rayburns, or move on. I mean, Hamlet just called. Even he says you’re slow-footing things.
Chin up, my lamb, for surely you realize this isn’t all a rainy day. We’ll always have fond memories of the shows we watched together in 2020 and found equally satisfying, like “Schitt’s Creek”. Well, that’s about it.
Don’t you see this is a blessing? Now content-wise, we’re free to see other people. I can hang with Easy Company from “Band of Brothers” whenever I want. Meanwhile you can tarry with the winsome Scotsman in “Outlander”, the time-bending bodice-ripper you watch for the, ahem, stories.
To be clear, our sacred marriage is blissful, so despite this call for video estrangement, I hope we can remain friends. Friends who remain happily wed evermore but, also till death do us part, stream our own shows.