DexterBy the time you read this, everyone will know what happens to Dexter Morgan, Showtime’s favorite serial killer. Will his sister Deb recover from her gunshot wound, and will Dexter be able to kill Saxon before escaping to Argentina with his son, Harrison, and girlfriend/serial killer Hannah?

Dexter is one of about a dozen television shows that are the only reasons to even turn on the light-emitting box of depression in our living room.

There’s no reason (other than a professional one for me) to watch the news. Murder and mayhem, politics as blood sport and the never-ending coverage of all things in B-list Hollywood leave us asking, “Why the hell are we even paying attention to this?”

When was the last time anyone had a dinner conversation about current events that didn’t end up in either an argument or people shaking their heads in disgust or sorrow?

I don’t care what actors do after the director says “Cut!” I only want to watch their work.

It’s unfortunate that other than Downton Abbey, Modern Family, South Park and Workaholics, most of the shows my wife and I enjoy are on premium channels like HBO or Showtime. Good acting, great story lines and intelligent writing, even if silly, are what draw us in.

We just want to be entertained, and for the cost of going to the movies about six times a year, those premium channels do the trick. We can wait for a movie to be televised, unless it’s something like Avatar, which needs that big screen. But frankly, most action-adventure movies have the exact same story line, and they suck, so we don’t waste our time.

Our DVR gets its biggest workout on Sunday nights, and it gives us shows to watch for the next couple of days. Although we mourn the series finale of Dexter that ran on Sept. 22, we are looking forward to its replacement, the season three premiere of Homeland on Sept. 29, when we find out what happens after the terrorist bombing, whether Nicholas is involved and if Carrie will find out which side he’s on.

There are two problems with intricate storylines: You have to pay attention, and you have to retain for many months what happens at the end of every season.

Last week, we watched a rerun of the Dec. 16 season finale of Homeland to prepare for this year’s premiere. (I don’t remember what happened on the sixth season finale of True Blood, and that was only five weeks ago.)

As one series ends, a new series takes its place, and most of them are hits. The Newsroom second season thankfully just ended, and if they get a third season, I hope Aaron Sorkin, who did such a great job writing West Wing and The Social Network, can get his groove back. Sorry, Aaron, but a Romney campaign worker could not refuse a reporter a seat on the campaign bus if that reporter’s network was paying a sizable amount of money per day for that seat. And the reporters on that bus don’t try to screw each other every day because they have to work with each other every day. Next time, ask someone who’s actually been on one of those buses before you write about it.

As Dexter Morgan bids us adieu, we look forward to Ray Donovan and Nucky Thompson and Chalky White. We look forward to watching Robert Crowley, the Earl of Grantham, on Jan. 5, and we’re not too jealous that Downton Abbey is already airing in England — and that the producers will probably send Michele Obama an advanced copy of the season like they did last year.

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