Kill Your TV: Making Up with Friends 

I hated Friends when it debuted, for many reasons.

First, there was no way someone like Joey would be friends with someone like Phoebe in real life. He's a dimwitted cock-thinker, and she's an ethereal vegetarian sprite. Second, there's no way a character like Monica, who is as Type-A and anal as they come, would tolerate an apartment full of hodgepodge. Third, there is no way a struggling chef could have afforded a spacious loft in the West Village. (To its credit, the show eventually addressed this, working in how Monica was illegal subletting from her retired grandmother.) Fourth, there is no way that no one else ever wanted to sit on that big couch at Central Perk. Fifth, to mention Monica again, there is no way someone who was allegedly heavy in high school ends up that skinny in her 20s without surgical intervention. Sixth, no one would ever play "Shiny Happy People" at a party they were throwing (in Season One) because no one likes that song, not even Michael Stipe. Shall I continue?

Okay, my main beef wasn't so much with the show as with the people who liked the goddamn thing — girls who squealed when they saw a sale at Esprit or thought that the Dave Matthews Band was edgy.

Now that I'm older and frankly wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then — thank you, Bob Seger — I can see why Friends connected with so many people. It was different from any other sitcom, a genre that hadn't changed much in the previous 25 years. Although it relied on homophobic humor as a plot device — usually through misunderstandings about the main male characters being gay ... hilarious! — Friends pushed the envelope by having lesbians on the show. The fact that the gang was all single and unfulfilled — their jobs were a joke, they were broke, and their love lives were D.O.A. — contrasted with other sitcoms where blended families with bratty kids made human pyramids in the opening credits. There was also the star quality of Jennifer Aniston, who for my money was the best cast member, though I like Courtney Cox as well (probably only because I found out she was close personal friends with Pee Wee Herman).

But what really puzzles me about Friends is how popular it still is. Perhaps I'm not one to talk since I'm a Golden Girls fanatic, but if you look at what's trending on Netflix or on Kodi, Friends is always in the top 10. (Netflix recently acquired every episode.) It's the M*A*S*H of the under-80 set. Thankfully, 1,463 members of Netflix have shared with us why they love this show. I went to the comments in search of wisdom and found the usual incoherence.

"FRIENDS ROCKS!!!!!" (Ah, that elucidates things.) It's also "The best show on TV and I'm only 10!"

To figure it out, I did something unprecedented in the name of journalism. I watched the entire series' run over a few weeks. Sure, I needed something brainless in the background while I dismembered the bodies of the children I'd snatched from daycare, but still, I think I got a good impression of the entire show. I even sat through the icky parts where Monica and Chandler were doing it and when Rachel and Joey were doing it. That was disgusting and it was all I could do to keep focused on the task at hand.

The result of this Friends indoctrination invaded my subconscious. I dreamed that the reason behind shortening the opening credit montage of umbrella-opening and kooky clips was because no one liked "I'll Be There For You," and an executive decision was made to get rid of it. (Excellent thinking.) Instead, the actors were in some sort of Sartre-esque maze of tall white walls that bespoke existential angst. No music, no words, no clapping. In reality, the producers did shrink down the opener as time went on, but openings like that were just becoming too trite in the age of grunge. Yes, blame Sub Pop.

Around Season 6, I started watching only the Rachel scenes, marveling that Aniston was, at the time, probably copulating with Brad Pitt in her off hours. It's like when you've heard "Stairway To Heaven" so many times that your brain decides it will only focus on the drums, and suddenly you're transfixed by the drum parts, realizing that you've never truly listened to them before. I had never truly watched Friends before. And now I like it. Damn.

A new day has dawned, for those who stand long.