I will be genuinely bummed once the show is off the air mainly because Coach Taylor is the truest fantasy dad of TV. I love both my dads, of course, but Coach Taylor is like, the universal shared grown-up fantasy of a dad everyone wishes they had (teenage fantasy of a dad: super-rich, generous dad who only barely cares where yr going at night and doesn’t embarrass you). He’s stern and concerned, how much he loves you simmers up from his reserved demeanor, and he’s always got a motivation quip. He doesn’t yell, he just tells you he’s disappointed and it’s like 10x more effective than if he was furious. It’s so, so cliche, but who in this American patriarchy isn’t yearning for this new-man version of a 50’s dad? The reliable, reasonable family man who knows best? Fucked-up contempo patriarchy makes you wish for old school solid patriarchy. I guess that is patriarchy getting over on it’s own terms, if a feminist like me is caught in it’s web of desire.

To tie this all back to movies: Friday Night Lights the film is unwatchably bad, especially if you are revolted by Billy Bob Thornton’s post-Angelina divorce plastic surgery and dental work (he looks like an anorexic donkey). The shaky hand cam will make you barf. And secondly, any of the movies on Netflix instant that feature or star a pre-FNL Tim Riggins (I do not even remember his real name) are equally as unwatchable, even if you find him tremendously handsome (A SHARED INTEREST BY BOTH AUTHORS OF THIS BLOG), you will be reminded that he is a model-turned-actor and that his performances are even worse-r than his accent when he played Gambit in the X-man movie before this last one. That is my secret shame, that I have attempted to watch horrible movies for the sake of ogling–but I can tell you, it’s not even worth it.