This isn't Rob's column. I volunteered to write Rob's column for him during last week's meeting, since he looked as if he couldn't take the stress, but I'm having difficulty. I hadn't figured that issues of personal identity would come into play so much in trying to write this article. You see, in order to write Rob Churchwell's column, you have to either write about Rob, be Rob, or write as Rob. I'm not prepared or properly equipped (physically) to do any of that, I think you'll have to settle for my usual ranting. The following has nothing to do with Rob. I think you'll find the commentary witty and profound, or, at least, you'll find it to be non- Rob oriented.

The column I wanted to write concerns sitcoms. The ones on the television. I'm watching one of the new NBC ones, and I see Doogie Howser (Neal Patrick Harris for those of us who also enjoyed his performance on 'Starship Troopers'). So I'm sitting there, watching this obviously talented actor struggle with the cookie cutter plot given to him, when I start thinking about Doogie Howser (the show, not the person). I start thinking about what the show was actually like. I don't try to understand the deeper societal implications of Doog, I'm just trying to recall plot lines. In general, I remember enjoying the antics of not only the Doog, but also of his rather impish Italian friend, Vinnie (You wouldn't expect the Italian kid to be named Vinnie). So I'm sitting here thinking about how good television used to be. It seems that, back when I was a child, television just seems to have been a major focal point of my life. The shows on now seem to pale in comparison not only to 'Doog', but to all of the shows that were on from 3:00 to dinnertime in the old Stevens household.

In reality, though, Neal Patrick Harris' rendition was not that convincing. The A-Team is only truly entertaining during the musical interludes/ welding scenes. Knight Rider was like Baywatch without silicone. I would say that it was just me that had an underdeveloped sense of humor and was not jaded enough to realize just how crappy these shows really are. But that doesn't make sense. At some point in time, everyone liked The A-team. At some point in time, other people thought that David Hasselhoff was a good enough actor to work without a breast- backup. He was a competent enough star to work with just a really cool car. At any rate, you have to admit, it wasn't just some confused kid in Philadelphia who was duped into liking these old shows. At some point, these shows that are now little more than a novelty act were accepted by all as decent television. What happened to transform these shows from viable commentary to worthless drivel?

If you go back even further, start watching The Beav and Father knows Best, you realize that, the further back in time you go, the more it looks like the plot was pieced together in a half hour. If you watch those TV Land retro nights, where you get a chunk of programming from 1955, you notice that you can predict everything that goes on in the show after watching the first five minutes. All of the jokes are telegraphed through a sort of belabored and plodding ironic routine. Somehow, people's sense of humor seems to be evolving. Slower in the midwest, but I genuinely believe that each and every one of us has a more advanced concept of comic irony than did our forbears. It's just that we're exposed to so much of what is supposed to be comic that we've heard every joke before. The origin of irony, producing something that is the opposite of what is expected has changed because we've all grown to expect the comic punchline. The more comedy we're exposed to, the more adept we will be at predicting and ruining any comedy that we're exposed to. When the punchline comes, we haven't been deceived. It isn't unexpected. It isn't funny.

It goes beyond television, though. Nothing from the 50's is funny. No one who grew up in the fifties is still funny. I honestly think that this is why my parents aren't funny. I honestly think that this is why my grandparents were even less funny. With this in mind, I can see how I will cease to be funny in a few years (It's already started to happen). In pursuit of something that is unexpected enough to be funny, we grow more and more to anticipate a comic ending, and what once was funny ceases to be in the end, much like this article.