Okay, it's official, I'm addicted. There's nothing else to say about it, I'm addicted to Top Gear. There's really very little I can do about it. I'm watching all the repeats I can, I'm googling the show, I'm googling Hammond, Clarkson, and May. I've contemplated trying to stop watching, but have opted against it.
That's right, I've opted against it.
I don't want to stop watching Top Gear. I may be addicted, but I'm happily addicted. I'm not ready to admit that I have a problem. Check that, I don't have a problem. Being addicted to Top Gear is not a problem.
Being addicted to Top Gear is a recognition, at some base visceral and intellectual level of what makes for happiness. I could have gone to bed at a decent hour last night, I could have gotten almost a full night's sleep, but I didn't. I opted to watch Top Gear instead. I had just finished watching a movie and the premiere of the new season of The Mole and it was most definitely bed time. But, I couldn't go to bed. There was an episode of Top Gear sitting there on the TiVo and it was calling out to me to be watched.
That's a lie. I shouldn't lie, it will only cause you to believe that my addiction truly is compromising who I am. There were two episodes of Top Gear on my TiVo, but I'm not yet at the point where watching all the episodes of Top Gear on my TiVo must be accomplished in one sitting. I'm close, but I'm not there yet.
Watching the presenters wind their way through four states in the Southern U.S. is literally a non-stop laugh. That's mostly because I find the sight of a dead cow on top of a Camaro funny. It's also funny to see three British men in Alabama with slogans on their cars that were put there for the sole purpose of making Alabamans mad. It's a mean-spirited sort of funny.
Well, it is and it isn't.
And, that's just another reason it's great. You see, they wrote slogans on one another's cars in order to provoke a reaction. They were well aware of what might happen, but they did it anyway, and they did it to each other. But, when the chips were down, when the folks from small town Alabama did in fact go after our heroes for the slogans written on their cars the guys got together and quickly wiped off all the cars.
Then, to end the episode, the guys, rather than selling their cars in New Orleans, gave them away to people that had lost everything in the hurricane. They almost got sued because the Camaro was a 1989, not a 1991 as had been promised by a researcher at the show, but they tried.
So, let me ask you, why would it be wrong to be addicted to Top Gear? It's smart men acting foolish but, when given the opportunity, doing the right thing. It's funny, it's intelligent, and if being addicted to it is wrong, I don't want to be right.