TBTL at 1000

TBTL at 1000. 1000! How did that happen? It’s a contradiction for the ages. I should know. A little over two years ago, I wrote a eulogy for the show and called it “TBTL: Why it mattered.” Notice that? “Mattered.” Past tense. I assumed it was over and I mourned the loss. I have never been so happy to be wrong.

Too Beautiful to Live. A show whose very title seemed to announce its fragility and impermanence instead soldiers on stronger than ever and is as much a fixture as anything can be in our media-saturated world. It’s as if someone deliberately built a sandcastle at the ocean’s edge (at low tide, to boot) and then returned to find that castle, against all odds, had survived one devouring tide after another. It goes against reason, it flouts common sense. In fact, by seeming to court its own demise, TBTL may have instead guaranteed its longevity.

But then, contradiction has always been part of the show’s DNA. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, the genius of TBTL is that it recognizes the profundity of the mundane. It’s silly and sublime, intellectual and inane, naive and yet knowing. It’ll take the time to explain how the Large Hadron Collider works as well as how to seduce an airline attendant into giving you free drinks. Too Beautiful to Live is all about finding that very delicate balance within the contradictions of our own lives. We’re Ira Glass and Hot Greg. Drew McFrizz and the Grammar Lady. The New Yorker and TMZ. In fact, we’re all Luke and Jen, and, okay, sometimes even Sean.

As I said in my obviously premature eulogy, TBTL has always reminded me of a slice of lemon meringue pie. At its best, it’s the perfect combination of sugar-spun fluff and tart flavor. When taking a bite out of TBTL, you have to make sure you taste both the meringue and the lemon, or you’ll miss the point. Some people, unfortunately, can’t get past the meringue. But if you stick with the show long enough, the lemon will always out.

Remarkably, TBTL still matters.

Rawr.