I started watching this show from its beginning and saw it improve greatly during its last season. Initially I found Meredith Grey, the program’s lead character and namesake, rather annoying. Her voice-overs came across as whiny, self-absorbed attempts to speak words of universal profundity. And the lame nickname given to Dr. Derek Shepherd, Dr. McDreamy, almost begged me to turn the channel.

The second season saw an increased focus on the other main characters and this created a wholly more enjoyable program. True, the other characters problems also continue to center on the relationship variety, but I still like the show. Surprising, I know, coming from someone who thinks they should make another Die Hard movie; someone who cringes when another suggests viewing a “romantic comedy”. But the show offers entertainment value and it’s always fun to guess if the featured patient will die that week.

So before the show even began this week, it had me crying. It was the music and the scenes and The Fray’s lead singer playing the piano all passionately and …

Provided a song has the proper melancholy tenor, it alone can sometimes bring a tear or two to my eyes. But couple such songs with heart-wrenching scenes of passion or tragedy and I’ll surely need to blow into a Puffs before the music ends. It’s not even the lyrics, necessarily, that evokes the somber mood, but the music itself. An interesting phenomenon where an arrangement of musical notes plays upon the mind and mood of its listeners.

This is not to say lyrics have no importance. I remember when I first sat listening to Pink Floyd’s The Wall with lyrics in hand. I wore these huge headphones to block out ambient noise while making it possible to more fully enjoy their sounds. I read the scribbled lyrics from its CD fold-out jacket with the naive amazement of my sheltered, pre-teen self. I thought it was brilliant and gleaned a whole new respect for music/musicians.

But back to Grey’s Anatomy. Poor Finn played by Chris O’Donnell. He’s a widowed veterinarian added to the show to serve as the less-loved, love interest of Meredith in a romantic quadrangle with the Shepherd doctors. They made his character too nice. This indicates to me that he will probably suffer some serious tragedy before exiting the show. An event of such devastation that Meredith will come to feel a guilt so pervasive that her relationship with Derek Shepherd will suffer.

Then we will be back to square one with the unrequited love flecked with sexual tension that makes for strong ratings.

I caught a preview for a new ABC show which featured James from “Good Times” in one of the scenes. So of course I think of M. I’m not positive, but I think she liked James. I know for certain she like Tom Willis from “The Jeffersons”, but I think James, too, was on her good side.

When his character died on “Good Times”, it affected me somewhat. This was one of my first experiences of viewing a character die from a weekly television series (watched in reruns, so actually got a daily dose of him on channel 9). It’s different than watching, say, “Columbo” where some character is introduced for the purpose of their death. James (John Amos) was a regular star whom we grew to know. Not necessarily love, though, as I thought him a mean, gruff dad too ready to whip out his belt. But he was familiar, so his departure made me sad. But not crying sad. Crying sad was almost every damn episode of “Little House on the Prairie”. Damn those prairie people for making me sob like a little sobbing baby.

So when he died, my brother who likes to “joke around” (aka lie), told me that he had died in real life, too. Although young, I was smart enough to ask how a dead person could appear on a show to film their death scene. He explained that the actor was very sick at the time and needed to leave the show. He said the show killed him off without knowing that he would actually die soon after. As this was pre-Internet I couldn’t double check this for myself and continued to believe he was no longer alive. Years later I saw him guest star on some show (I am thinking “Simon and Simon”, quality tv viewing by me, no???) and thought, “huh, I really thought he was dead”.

Looking up John Amos on imdb.com, I see he has been in many things since “Good Times”. My apologies, Mr Amos, for continuing to bind you to such a dated series. You moved on many times over and I neglected to keep up.

M: I hope I get to see your custom made engagement ring tomorrow. P.S. You made out much better than the fantasy man, Mr. Tom Willis. RIP as of February 2006.

So it’s been many years now as a vegetarian; almost half of my life spent shunning the meats. I remember when I first made the decision to not eat any animal parts, people would ask if I missed eating meat. I didn’t then and don’t now. Well, almost not. There is one meat product I will occasionally crave: Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup. Not their homestyle versions, or the heartier Progresso brands, or even the fancier Wolfgang Puck’s products, but the original condensed soup in the metal can with the red and white label. I miss the yellow-orange, greasy coating which sits on top of the product when it’s first poured into a bowl. I miss the oh-so-salty broth and the taste unmatched by any other soup. I remember the “special” times of taking the soup to school in my Holly Hobby thermos, the enjoyment of pouring the soup into the cup and crushing up some crackers. They weren’t lying, it was “Mmm, mmm good”.

And still years later, I find it nearly impossible to find meatless, chicken noodle soup. Searching for no-meat corn dogs or ribs? No problem. Soup, though, poses problems. Is it that hard to make a vegetable stock that is not tomato-based? Amy’s Organics makes a vegetarian no-chicken noodle soup, but its taste turns me off. It’s primary flavor seems to be celery; celery and I are not friends. Please do not put celery in my Chinese food, it’s not wanted. Please, celery, do not sneak into my mouth hidden by the bok choy and sugar snap peas, you will cause me to spit you out in disgust. I will be forced to drink excessive amounts of liquid to drown your bitter aftertaste. Even your appearance reminds me of little, curled of snails. Stay away from me celery, as I despise your taste and texture. I easily choose the common and cheap salt over you any and every day.

In a few hundred years, people will study the early 21st century and think us a society of narcissistic, barbarians who bred, force-fed, slaughtered, then devoured animals to simply satisfy a taste. The future kids will wonder why, with the knowledge and the ability to survive without feasting upon animals, did so many continue to eat the meat products.