Well, my friends, the time has come. It’s the final category of my dream Emmy nominees. I put it off until the Comic-Con furor died down, but by Thursday we’ll know what the (inevitably disappointing) nominees are. But until then, let’s live in the magical world where good comedy is actually rewarded. The nominees for Best Comedy are…
Parks and Recreation
Normally, at this point I’d go through the highs and lows of each show, play a few clips, and crown a winner. But I am not going to do that in this category for a simple reason — going through the highs and lows is impossible to do until you know what specifically the Best Comedy Emmy is designed to reward.
I have a confession – I love Sondre Lerche. Not his music. Him.
Okay, don’t get me wrong, I think his music is great. I’m especially fond of his album with the Faces Down Quartet. Good stuff, there. But no, the affection I feel for his music is nothing compared to the extremely fond feeling for the actual dude. He’s darling. I have a deeply held belief that when whatever higher-up created him, they used the leftover parts they had from creating puppies and marshmallows. And I want to eat him up with a spoon.
If it makes anyone feel better, it’s got nothing to do with wanting to do the horizontal tango, or anything. I mean, is he super-dee-duper cute? Clearly. But no, the affection I feel for him makes me feel like I have a very fuzzy kitten curled up in my belly, and it is purring, only instead of just making a noise, the kitten is emitting rainbows. I would like to perhaps bake him cookies. Or knit him a sweater. Or tuck him in at night. Never mind that he’s seven years older than me and I suck at knitting. I can’t control my urges, only what I do about them. But these urges were relatively controlable.
And then… I went to see him in concert last night.