humility is the happy medium between vanity and self-loathing

How I Met Your Mother is a perfect storm of completely unrelated pop-culture icons. It’s like Chinese Water Torture of 1990’s back-wash: Doogie Howser, Bob Saget and The Red-Headed Chick from American Pie. But I watch it anyway; the show was syndicated around the same time I misplaced my cable. My exposure to popular television has resulted in a self-dictated nightly menu which is singularly horrifying (Two words: Undercover Boss). But now, I’m being reunited with my cable. I know that it will only be a matter of time before I’m complaining about the lack of reasonable 24-hour programming on cable and my future dissatisfaction saddens me. Hopefully, I’ll exemplify a desirable amount of follow-through and continue to watch How I Met Your Mother; if nothing else honoring the fact that I was once equally dissatisfied with only 14 channels.