The Balm of Schitt's Creek

I was talking to a friend last night and we agreed that Schitt’s Creek is pretty much all we feel like watching right now. After greedily binge-watching, I’m nearing the final season and starting to slow down and savor it. I’m trying to make it last…like flour, or yeast, or hand sanitizer.

Something about its lack of dread feels soothing right now. It’s light and warm and funny and you know that everything is going to work out just fine. In one episode, David invites his boyfriend Patrick’s parents to the surprise party he’s throwing for Patrick. It turns out that Patrick’s parents have no idea that he is in a relationship or even that he is gay. In other shows, this could be so fraught. How will they react? Will it be ugly? Will David resent Patrick for not telling his parents about him? How will Patrick feel about David’s Dad letting the information slip before he could tell them himself? And there’s all of that but it’s handled with such warmth and goodness and…lack of dread. Everyone is kind and gracious to each other and there are no hard feelings, nothing anxiety-provoking.

It’s a big hot, cup of tea and a biscuit of a show. It’s soothing. There’s no need to worry, it will work itself out, a Xanax with gorgeous clothes.

There’s not going to be school again for six months and my kid might not see another kid until then…it’ll sort itself out. I hate being a travel ban away from my family…not to worry. I long to go out for dinner, have a drink at the Beer Garden, hug friends…everything’s going to be alright. Our “president” is a stone-cold moron who brags about the models he’s dated during a global pandemic briefing…let it go.

Don’t worry, don’t stress, it’ll all come out in the wash…and if it doesn’t? We have a bit of a cry and pick ourselves up, put on our best tiara and walk out to what’s next with love and grace and forgiveness and warmth.