A new kind of Thursday night drama

I was watching the premiere of Shark last night, which Channel Five is promoting as the hottest new drama to hit American television screens this year. (As an aside, are any of you people actually watching this program, or is that marketing-speak for "we acquired the rights to this show before we realized what a dud it is and now that we've paid for it, we plan to jam it down your throats"?)

First I thought the problem was my television, so I turned the sound up a bit. Then I thought the problem might be that I was lying down and one of my ears was essentially blocked, so I sat up straighter. And finally I called Paul into the room.

"Listen to this show for a minute," I begged him. "Can you understand a word any of these people are saying or are they all just talking way too fast for you to follow?"

He listened. And then he started to laugh at me. Apparently, he was having no trouble whatsoever following the dialogue, which he assured me was proceeding at a regular American pace. "Oh my God," I wailed. "I totally can't follow any of this! It's ridiculously fast for me!! I think Americans talk too fast now!!! I'm becoming British after all!!!!"

Paul just shook his head at me, though I wasn't sure whether it was my lack of comprehension or my overly dramatic reaction that he was responding to. "I'm going to read about this in the blog tomorrow, I just know it," he muttered as he walked away.