Jan 8, 2024 3 min read

Television will rot your brain. I should know. I’ve killed quite a few brain cells in front of the boob tube. Heck, I’ve wiped away large patches of my cerebellum.

While most kids were drinking their first beer behind the bleachers, or getting high behind the gym, I picked up a terrible habit from my nana. I would come home from school and watch a soap opera with my paternal grandmother.

Side note: If you’re a millennial reading this column (you are outside my usual demographic), you will need a definition of the term “soap opera.” It’s like a Telenovela without subtitles. A soap opera was a TV show that ran daily, designed to sell Palmolive dishwashing liquid to bored homemakers and children playing hooky. They were dramatic like an opera (without the singing) but sold soap. Hence the ridiculous moniker. The characters would lie, cheat, and steal and then confide in a friend about their petty crimes and misdemeanors, unaware that their friend would tattle on them.

But I digress, like I do. Back in the day, there were many soaps to choose from. There was one with a lighthouse, one with a hospital, and one with an hourglass. I learned quite a few things. I’ve had to spend decades unlearning the information I garnered.

If you don’t see a body, the person isn’t dead. This one messed me up. I still can’t go to a closed casket funeral without thinking the person is going to show up a few weeks later with a different face.

If you send children upstairs, they come down the stairs as teenagers. If the kids went away to camp, they came back as adults. But it was far better to be a kid on a soap opera than a sitcom. Most of the soap opera kids grew up to be doctors. Poor Chuck Cunningham. He went upstairs on the first season of “Happy Days,” and disappeared from existence. It was as if he was removed from the timeline. His parents didn’t even mention him at Christmas.

Another thing I learned from soap operas is that you never trust a twin. One of them is always evil. I know a few sets of twins and I’m always wary. Luckily, none of my twin friends ever tried to kidnap their sibling on their wedding day.

When you’re having an affair, never mention the other person’s spouse. It will kill the mood. I’ve seen this on soap operas a few times. Greenlee would talk about her husband, Ridge, before sleeping with Fox.

P.S. The names were always weird. They always sounded like they were using the NATO Phonetic Alphabet to name their kids, Sierra, India, Romeo, Foxtrot and Charlie. The twist was Charlie was a girl.

A comedian once joked, “A year of soap opera stories could be over in 15 minutes if the characters just told the truth.”

The best thing I’ve learned from soap operas is that it’s just better to tell the truth.