"For the rest of the summer and into the fall following my mom’s shoulder surgeries, we watched more religiously than we ever had before. We watched five nights a week, after eating the takeout my dad had picked up on his way home or some of the friend-gifted lasagna that stuffed our freezer.
Really, though, our aim was no different than that of any other family getting together to stare at a screen. We wanted, for a half-hour or a string of them, to get familiarity and surprise in the right proportions, to watch these miraculous people who fit perfectly into their faces, their clothes, their jobs, and themselves, who rubbed each other the wrong way, wonderfully, until they didn’t anymore, until the closing credits signaled the magical sitcom reset that would let things start over the next time. We were not as tired as my mom, but we were tired enough, and it was warm, and we wanted to spend more time with something we’d already spent too much time with, something that we already knew too well.”
Best Comment: “Now normcore extends to media criticism”