The TV Hall of Fame

-- Welcome to the Pyramid of Favorite Shows

In the sporting world, Halls of Fame are museums with a single-story, where Mickey Mantle can be found on the same floor as Rube Marquard, and Larry Bird can be in the same room as Dwight Howard. As my blogspiration Bill Simmons points out, this makes no sense! These four may all be hall of famers, true, but they do not belong in the same conversation from a talent perspective. To introduce proper strata into the conversation of greatness, Bill gave us the Hall of Fame Pyramid: a building where the least accomplished Hall of Famers inhabit the first floor and the quality of player increases from one floor to the next. Each floor in a pyramid is smaller than the one preceding, which makes sense from a rankings perspective, for the higher we climb the narrower our list of greats should become. By the time you reach the top of the pyramid you've enter rarified air, where only the best of the best reside. 

In my TV pyramid, the floor occupancy works like this: 

Floor 1 has space for 8 shows

Floor 2 has space for 6 shows 

Floor 3 has space for 4 shows 

Floor 4 -- aka the penthouse, the pantheon, apex mountain -- has space for one show, the greatest of them all.

Today's post will take you on a tour of the pyramid as I rank my top 19 TV shows.11. Please note there is room for growth in this list, for once a series enters the pyramid it can't leave. It may however get demoted from one floor to the next. For example, if the young-but-ascending Apple hit Shrinking were to someday rise to my 9th favorite show -- which would qualify it for Floor 2 status -- then the worst ranked show in Floor 2 (currently Buffy the Vampire Slayer) would have to drop to Floor 1 to make space for Shrinking. However, in Floor 1, nobody has to leave to make space for Buffy; Floor 1 has unlimited expandability. It simply grows from housing 8 shows to 9. We build an add-on because once you're in, you're in.

One critical question with the pyramid was which font should be used to introduce each floor. Is the fact this is a pyramid enough to bring Papyrus out of retirement? Alas, no, despite how much I loved it back in the Peleton days. Instead, we use a font that pays tribute to perhaps the greatest TV production of all. Survivor does not qualify for this list -- reality TV doesn't belong here -- but it's so special that I aped its classic font as you'll see shortly. 

The last thing I'll note before we enter the pyramid is that I have not taken this assignment lightly. I've put time into this, my friends; I respect TV too much to do otherwise. And I can prove it. One of my favorite things about having a blog that is turning 19 this year (whoa) is that I've lived through scenarios where an idea was born in 2015, purgatoried in draft mode for years, then debuted in 2021. That's the case here. 

My very first draft of this post was saved on December 1, 2014. It's an exaggeration to say I've been working on this for 12 years ... but it is true that the rankings have been stewing, off and on, in my mind, receiving the occasional pinch of seasoning, since that time. 

So with that, let's begin. 

Spoiler warning: from here on out I make occasional references to events that will ruin things for any uninitiated with these series. Proceed with caution. 

#19. Friday Night Lights
Why is it so hard to make an athletic contest look normal on TV? FNL's action scenes are horrifying, worse in quality than our annual, middle-aged Turkey Bowl highlights, were they to be filmed. Speaking of, John Warr once ambitiously filmed our group of young men playing football in front of the Granger 4th Ward building -- hoping to impress recruiters with highlights of him demolishing deacons -- and I'm here to testify that this early 2000s footage, produced via camcorder and tripod, looked better than the outlandish reenactments we see in hoops and football shows, even if the only footage we got was a fight between Josh Kushlan and Jason Johnson.22. Oh and me locking the keys into the 4-runner. Somehow, TV can make me believe that I'm watching a real-life dragon cook a human in perfectly rendered flames, yet we can't make Matt Saracen look like he's thrown a football before. Maybe this is the reason Timothee Chalamet spent 8 years practicing ping pong for Marty Supreme?

AND YET!

The football acting, though straight from the bush-league, was not enough to slow down FNL. Not even close. The show had too many good characters and unlimited drama, some preposterous -- ahem, looking at you murder plotline -- but always compelling.

My eyes haven't been clear in a long time, not since before I mistakenly guessed numbers instead of letters during my driver's license vision test, and I've suffered my fair share of losses, but of Coach Taylor's famous catch line, the show always left me with a full heart.

#18. Stranger Things
Stranger Things aired 42 episodes across 3,456 days, or in other words, one episode every three months over the course of a decade. For comparison, Modern Family aired 250 episodes over a similar time frame, good for one episode every 15 days. I know, I know, the two are barely comparable, making this contrast in timing a joke, but it was this extremely slow drip of Stranger Things content that made me ask, sheepishly, if the star of Season 5, Holly Wheeler, had even been in the show previously. It was hard to remember!

Despite it all, seasons 4 and 5 of Stranger Things were stupendous enough to overcome those long droughts and drag it firmly into the pyramid. I wrote about this show at length last month so I won't belabor too much here, but in summary, Vecna creeped, the kids (and their bikes) charmed, the music delighted, the action delivered. Crap on the finale all you want people; I ate it up.

#17. Sherlock

To think there once was a time I didn't like Benedict Cumberbatch!

To think there once was a time I believed PBS was responsible for the greatness of Sherlock!

Clearly, I am not clever enough to be a showrunner, especially for a production as smart as this one. 

Sherlock was so good it forced me to follow the seeds it scattered. To wit, Sherlock produced:

1) a villain so captivating it drove me to watch Fleabag (amazing)

2) a Watson so root-worthy it singlehandedly made me watch the Hobbit movies (woof)

3) a soundtrack so fitting it inspired my favorite moment of Pizza Protection: Los Ninos  

This show is the perfect candidate to surprise us in 20 years with a literal senior season, the detective duo navigating London's crime scene despite aging minds and bodies, much like the 5th Indiana Jones, minus the, uhhh, time travel. Make it happen PBS (lol) and I'll gladly accept your gratitude towards viewers like me, for the first time in the way it was actually intended. 

#16. Slow Horses

I lived 30 years assuming the most famous TV character named Cartwright would be attributed to the classic Seinfeld Chinese restaurant bottle episode. 

"You're not Cartwright."

"OF COURSE I'M NOT CARTWRIGHT!"

Likewise, I assumed I could never enjoy a character named River, even if it was the best of my cousin’s awful, woodsy kid names (River, Heart, Birch). I was wrong on both accounts and I'm very happy about it. River Cartwright is supposedly not the star of Slow Horses -- that honor belongs to the fart frequent Jackson Lamb -- but he's my favorite TV character in recent memory. His try-hard, fail-often persona relates to all, and I will forgive him someday for failing to respond to his grandfather's declaration of "I love you". 

Will this show kill River at some point? It's possible given they've churned through quite a few of the cast already. I would be devastated but Slow Horses has earned complete trust from me. I consider it top of class from a cohesive, engaging, tense storytelling perspective33. Makes sense given the series is based on books and I find myself recommending it more than anything else I've watched since Thrones. We should also mention this is the only show in the pyramid still airing episodes; it has room to climb higher on this list. Good luck Mr. Horses, the escalator to floor 2 is just a couple more seasons of excellence away ... 

#15. Breaking Bad

It took me six months to watch the first six episodes. The rest of the series was binged in a matter of weeks. I think fondly on those days; Jackie was pregnant with Ellie, it was a blazing summer, I'd come home from work, we'd both lie down on the mattress in the basement and she'd watch Grey's Anatomy and I'd watch Breaking Bad, a show so depressing it makes a person feel like their anatomy is turning grey. That's the thing with Breaking Bad - it was awesome, beloved, boasts a finale among TV's best, yet was also a downer in almost every episode. The Wire felt more hopeful. The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City feels more hopeful! 

I'm not trying to dog Breaking Bad. The show is legendary, Ozymandias is probably a top five episode all-time, it's just that watching every single person lose everything that means anything to them is a bummer. It made it hard for me to love which made it hard for me to invest which made it harder for me to love again! 

Somewhere Devon Smith rages at this tepid praise. 

#14. Veep

I don't like politics. Veep exists to skewer politics. You'd have to produce a show making fun of Ute fans after heartbreaking and humiliating losses to find something as perfect a match for me. 

There's a scene in Veep where Julia is delivering a speech at the state of the union and her teleprompter goes awry - first it goes blank, then speeds through text too quickly, refreshes with placeholder language, and finally displays the wrong speech. In the aftermath, she rages at her team and her aid Gary places her glasses on her face crooked. When trying to correct the placement, he snaps them.

I tell you this because I cried from laughter the first time I watched it. I rewound and watched again. It's one of the funniest acting performances I've seen. 

Veep of course is best known for the X-rated insults fired at any and all characters. Here are a few of my blog-appropriate favorites. 

"Those glasses make you look weak; they're like wheelchairs for the eyes."

"Are we gonna let the guy with a police sketch face of a rapist tell us what to do?"

"Even in Spanish it doesn't sound like it's gonna work."

"3rd place!?! Even the Nazis came in second."

"I can't believe I got screwed by that human balloon animal."

"Every time I see that guy I hear circus music."

"Are you doing it or are you just gonna sit here and fart into the couch?"

You know what we used to call people like you in my day? Retards."

"It's always good to see the most left-swiped face on Tinder."

"I'm sure he's an inspiration to other slow adults."

"Well it's been great struggling to talk to you."

"Kent majored in fortune cookies."

"Thanks, Kent's autism, for that response."

"If you tried to clap you'd miss your hands."

"Ok kittens, time to get drowned."

Bonus points for introducing me to Sam Richardson, aka Richard Splett. 

#13. Community

I hate learning that people I like are jerks. But Kevin Garnett being racist didn't stop me from liking the T-wolves and Alec Baldwin being a shmuck didn't stop me from liking 30 Rock and Chevy Chase being the worst co-worker in the world didn't stop me from loving Community. 

This show wears a merit badge that few others can: it has stand-alone episodes so funny I've shown them to multiple non-viewers, with no attached pressure to embrace the series, more like sharing a random scripture than gifting a Book of Mormon. I'm talking about showing Ass Crack Bandit to Eric after a time we laughed about plumbers crack or the time I showed Kenny the Basic Rocket Science episode after our father-in-law detoured to KFC. In particular, I enjoyed showing Karlie the Dungeons and Dragons episode, fresh off her breakup with the dice-roller Paul. Go hook up with a goblin, Paul. 

Community wielded a lot of influence on the world. Much of my individual culture is driven by this show -- see the use of candy cigarettes, a handshake that has permeated Riverton city proper, or the goal of attending a random community college once elderly -- but a lot of real life culture has been impacted as well. Ever heard someone ask what timeline we're in? You can thank this 30 minutes of TV mastery. I still regret not performing the Troy and Abed handshake with Jackie when she was escorted out of [REDACTED], in what could have been our own version of Atticus Finch absorbing a spit to the face without stutter, or Kobe getting ball faked without flinching. 

There's a fitting three word phrase I'm obligated to include as my ending note. My review of Community? 

"Hah! (Not) gayyyyyyyyyy."

Full disclosure: I fought with this show's placement quite a bit. For a time it wasn't even in the pyramid, as I debated Remington Steele, Scrubs, Alias, Fleabag, Modern Family, The Office, and The Americans as potential replacements. Community's 4th season, the first without showrunner Dan Harmon, was rough and things continued to downgrade when Troy and Pierce moved out of the cast. But in the end Community was just too much. You can't be held out if you teach me a greeting mechanism I use on a daily basis, resurrect candy cigarettes, properly mock my favorite movie, introduce the concept of the meat store, legitimize roommates having their own radio show, or cameo heroes a la Ben Folds and Jason Alexander. 

#12. Succession

Should I be ashamed that my favorite character from this masterclass is Tom? When the internet unanimously agreed that Tom was a weak, butt-kissing beta who swallowed his own you-know-what, it sure felt that way. 

But even if all of the above is true, he still won the whole dang thing! I rooted for him from start to finish and his final scene, where he silently extends his hand for Shiv's is such a mic drop. Who's weak now?!?

From the articles I read and the co-watchers I spoke to, Tom wasn't even on the radar in that last season. I had one friend who thought cousin Greg -- GREG!! -- had a better chance of taking over as CEO. Outrageous. I found Tom's journey through marital heartbreak to nominee for prison fall guy to the final revenge tour so captivating; I'll buy stock in his company any time. As we learned from Jeff Probst, there's more than one way to win the title of sole Survivor and Tom's way, even if not the prettiest, worked. 

Succession managed to work and be one of the prettiest. The Roy family formed an unforgettable cast, their dramatics never once bored, and how about the A+ soundtrack? That's a lethal combo, strong enough to make Succession clearly the best show of the first floor. 

#11. Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Long before a random BYU grad made vampires cool, before Kristen Stewart proved greater than Christian Stewart and before making 3 books into 4 movies was a thing, there was Buffy. And I loved her. 

So much. 

To any parents out there who worry about their sons becoming gay, forget about strategically placing Victoria's Secret catalogs throughout the house and just have your son dial up this show. To watch Buffy manhandle demons on a weekly basis is to fast-track the hormones in the female direction. Use this knowledge with caution.

While it's true Buffy monopolized all the crushes my 12-year-old body could muster, even if SMG hadn't played the lead there would have been enough here to keep me viewing. The dialogue in this show is so good that my brother listened to Buffy instead of podcasts at work and how many action shows could you say that about? Of course, there's one episode he can't listen to because lest things get to predictable, showrunner Joss Whedon decided to throw in an incredible creepy episode that had zero talking. Yeah no big deal, it just won an Emmy is all, as did their other off-the-wall episode that decided to go in an all-musical format. 

So you see, Buffy wasn't just about a beautiful girl contorting her body in as many ways as possible to kill vampires. Standing alone that would have made for a fine show, but throw in the extra-curriculars -- Buffy has an academia section in its Wiki page for crying out and loud -- and you're making the pyramid.

Noteable 1: For years, every time I played Halo and the match mode "Slayer" would be announced at the beginning of a round, I smiled.  

Noteable 2: Yes, the very, very, very aware reader may realize I plagiarized myself, having used the above words a few years ago to describe Buffy as my #2 favorite TV character of all-time. I liked the words then and I like them now so I have no issue repeating. Sue me. 

#10. Chuck

 After my mission, I was, like many before me, a freakin' weirdo. 

One way that weirdness manifested was that I didn't watch TV - a laughable thought these days. I had chances, as back in 2007 The Office watch parties were exploding in popularity, but alas I hadn't been captured by the Scrantonites. 

And then, like an angel descending from above, visiting earth to break my TV drought, to uplift a bald and boring soul, Yvonne Strahovski came into view and fogged up my glasses. She quickly became the 5th in my line of TV girlfriends, following in the footsteps of the OG Topanga Lawrence, Buffy, Rachel and Marissa from the OC, and I considered, briefly, relocating to Australia once I learned this was her natural habitat. But all these hormonal feelings were but one piece of the puzzle. 

To dismiss Morgan's charm or Chuck's season one hair or Jeffster's tunes would be negligence. Aye, Sarah was a goddess but her personality was dull. She may have hooked me but what did the heavy lifting on this show was the soundtrack, Chuck waking up Morgan by waving pizza in front of his face, Jeff eating a urinal cake, by Emmet Millbarge simply existing, Lester looking at corrupt files, and Big Mike laying pipe for Bolonia Grimes. 

To tell the truth, up until maybe a week ago I had this show on the bottom floor in the Succession spot. Recency bias was not doing Chuck any favors. I knocked it because my parents were fans (lol), because it wasn't prestige TV that garnered mentions on Grantland, and because it seemed to completely evaporate from the TV conscious when it went off air. It had a fair share of corny moments and required multiple hail marys from Subway (yes that Subway, it was very odd) just to stay alive.

But then I read my sappy goodbye post to Chuck, my defense of Morgan as a top 5 character of all-time, and remembered our first pod was this show! An entire year-end awards post was based on quotes from Chuck! I mean, Nathan and I dressed up as Chuck and Morgan for Halloween, and the costumes worked so well that their display at the Howl remains the only time in my life a stranger tried to grind me (yes, it was a girl). 

And so I remember now - I loved this show with all my heart. 

It aged poorly, but so have I, and that doesn't mean we should dismiss either of our primes. In this case my prime came the same year as Chuck's -- hail 2010!! -- when the aforementioned costume nearly earned me an honor code violation and its sibling, the majestic duo of Siegfried and Roy, earned the praise of Mindy Haws and a local Father (religious, not paternal). Congrats to me and Nathan for these outfits44. Love these costumes as I may, it's possible my very best may have come at age 10 when I shaved half of my head to be Two-Face from Batman. I plastered the unshaved half of my face with a floury combination my dad concocted for a truly elite costume effort. I remember showering it off after trick or treating, wondering what would I do if this is permanent? and congrats to Chuck for making the Top Ten!

#9 Better Call Saul

!Major spoiler warnings for The Last of Us 2, Better Call Saul, and Breaking Bad!

Ranking shows is fun and ranking shows from within the same universe is even more fun. My take on Breaking Bad versus Better Call Saul? Saul may not reach the heights of Breaking Bad's greatest episodes, but coast-to-coast, start-to-finish, I like BCS55.Another reason to love Better Call Saul? It overtook the turdly Bowl Championship Series as the first thing that comes to mind when I see the BCS acronym.more. The reason for this belief is simple: 

Saul > Walt

Kim > Jesse

Chuck > Skyler

Howard > Hank

Nacho > Jane

Lulo > Tuco

The cast comparison is more than a sweep, it's a nuking. The top characters from Saul were so compelling that they made me care 10x more about their outcomes than their BB peers, even if the BCS plots lacked some of the "epic-ness" that BB's generated. Now before you zoom to the comment section, I also worried this analysis underestimated Jesse, a character universally adored, but Kim is frankly unstoppable. She is the Mahomes to Jesse's Josh Allen. 

The pundits say Breaking Bad has the best series finale of any of the prestige TV wunderkind, but Saul's final act, to me, is absolutely legendary as well. I kept rooting for Saul all season to escape his consequences with one final, grand scheme, only to realize, once the opposite happened, that I had been subconsciously hoping for his redemption arc all along. His finger gun salute to Kim, within the prison walls, hits me harder than Walt's death or Jesse's escape. The whole switcharoo in feelings reminds me of The Last of Us 2, a game that for 25 hours convinced me I wanted Ellie to take revenge on Abby, up until the moment she didn't, at which point I was flooded with relief. To both of these endings I ask, how? How did you do that? What trickery is this, that media can make us believe we want one outcome, and then grant even more satisfaction by giving us the opposite? It's one of the many, many things that made BCS so impressive. 

#8. Arrested Development

I saw approximately two million Arrested Development commercials in my teen years, its omnipresence intersecting Eagles-Niners games, baseball playoffs, and the best show Fox ever did offer, which will be revealed soon enough. And boy did I think each and every commercial looked stupider than anything I'd hitherto seen in the world. Back in those days I was willing to dip my toes into almost any TV waters, some of which was good (Spin City), some forgettable (Newsradio), some weird (the late show with Craig Kilborn), some really weird (MadTV), and some barely redeemable (The Drew Carey show). In an era with no streaming and no cable I'd pretty much give anything a chance. Except this show. 

Arrested Development thus holds the honor of having the biggest gap between what I thought a series would be and what it actually was. I cannot believe I was so wrong. I tried out Arrested Development in a moment of despair, when Jackie was [REDACTED] and the intensity of the Last of Us demanded a break. I was hooked in a matter of seconds. It took one line, from a character disturbed by a haircut:

"Look what the homosexuals have done to me."

As I climb the pyramid I struggle to find new ways to say, "It's so funny", but even if generic thems the facts for this entry.  

Arrested Development introduced so many comical ideas. The stair car. A professional analrapist. Cheap Karl Weathers. Annyong. "I want you to ride your cousin. Hard." "We're gonna take advice from a guy who can't even grow his own hair?!?" "Those are balls." Lucille versus a loose seal. "These are my awards, Mother. From Army."

If pressed as to why it took me so long to fall in love with one of the best comedies of all-time66. For this analysis we pretend the stand-alone Netflix season never existed. Its body odor does not permeate the OG seasons. I'll turn to Lucille's patented defense. 

#7. Friends

Everything I learned from age 14 to 19, rather fundamental years I dare say, was osmosis-ed via my exposure to Friends. I'd like to offer some thanks. 

First I'd like to thank my parents for forbidding me from watching the Simpsons and inadvertently directing me towards Friends instead.77. Both shows were on at the same time but channel 13 was outlawed and channel 14 was not. On the flap of these butterfly wings did my teenage years unfold.  

I'd like to thank Joey for teaching me physical comedy. 

I'd like to thank Chandler for teaching me verbal comedy.

I'd like to thank Chandler for showing me how to have a fake job. 

I'd like to thank Janice for teaching me what annoying looks like. 

I'd like to thank Monica for teaching me that being anal about cleaning is not cool.

I'd like to thank Ross for showing me what not to do in relationships. 

I'd like to thank Joey for showing me what to do in relationships. 

I'd like to thank Chandler for teaching me sarcasm. 

And I'd like to thank Rachel for being the hottest teacher I ever had. 

I love this show. When Ellie was born I was in a weird, post-partum slump, and I re-watched every episode. It was the backdrop to every marathon feeding-burping-changing session I had with baby Ellie. If my daughter turns out cool, no doubt being exposed to Friends from a young age will have been a key factor. 

#6. Gossip Girl

I know, I know, I know. Gossip Girl, by any quantitative measure, is not better than Succession or Breaking Bad or many on this list. But the pyramid is not based on factual reasoning. There are vibes to be considered and Gossip Girl possessed them in troves. 

Mid 2000s gossip blogs are a vibe. Teens hooking up from opposite sides of the tracks, or East River rather, are a vibe. Plaid school uniforms? Vibe. Kristen Bell's cheeky narrations? Vibe. And finally, the duo: Serena Van Der Woodsen and Blair Waldorf.

Two unstoppable it girls, often aligned, sometimes jockeying, yet always jaw-dropping in appearance no matter the circumstances. I could write pages on their outfits or hair if, you know, I had an ability to describe fashion. My reviews of their looks would fall mainly into the Fred Flintstone hubba hubba level of commentary. 

But reader, I am not so shallow. A show does not climb the pyramid on the strength of babes alone, though make no mistake, this is the greatest combo of smokeshows in a single TV program, ever. Who even are the runners up? Marissa and Summer from The OC? Sydney Sweeney and Zendaya from Euphoria? Lucy and Ethille from I love Lucy? Aria and Hannah from PLL? Kelli and Jessie from Saved by the Bell?  

I digress. Let's try to decrease my pervy-ness by singing the praises of the parts of Gossip Girl that don't have to do with Gorgeous Girl. The fact is lots of shows are built on the premise of rich teens misbehaving in beautiful places. This one elevates above the rest because showrunner Josh Schwartz is a master of the genre. In the same way there are hundreds of NBA players but only one LeBron, there are hundreds of teen soaps but only one Schwartz. Gossip Girl is his version of Bron's 2012 season; it featured Schwartz at the peak of his powers, even if this title isn't his most beloved achievement among the fans (for Bron, it was his 2016 Cleveland championship and for Schwartz, if you haven't guessed by now, it's The O.C.). 

How did Schwartz make GG so good? He turned Chuck Bass from a sexual abuse candidate in early episodes into an internet heartthrob, based off personality more than looks. He molded Blair into a never before seen combination of sophisticate, schemer, slut, and scholar with a chef's dash of sass. He made Serena a caring older sister and let her date a consecutive stream of losers which turned her from a superrich supermodel into a girl we all rooted for. Dan was annoying, but intentionally so; Nate stupid but lovably so. 

You may think these are obvious attributes, easily written, but I think such a stew requires a daft hand. Consider this - the Gossip Girl reboot, with the powerful backing of HBO (to borrow a tagline from my employer), was cancelled after its second season, and probably should have been canned after the first. What was the show lacking? It didn't have someone directing the action at the LeBron level, sliding drama into the perfect spots like a John Stockton pass, setting up creative will-they-or-won't-theys like a Jokic no-looker, or dunking music straight into our soul in the manner of a Vince Carter slam. 

Any time I'm sick this is my go to show. It's a warm blanket, saltine crackers, iced Sprite, and an elevated pillow. It reminds me of fall and winter and unlimited nights binging through seasons with Jackie and Karlie. I will love it forever. 

Spoiler alert: This is the second Josh Schwartz creation in the pyramid and it won't be his last.

#5. Curb Your Enthusiasm

The R-rated Seinfeld went from at first a mild curiosity, to pretty enjoyable, to absolutely one of the funniest shows I've ever seen. Unlike most series, which start strong, ascend, then inevitably falter, Curb seemed to snowball into something better every subsequent season. The show never had a slump, it just kept getting funnier, its cast larger, the scenarios more outlandish, the guest stars more famous.88.And importantly, its resolution crisper. You forget this show debuted in the year 2000 until you watch the non-HD first season. Where did Larry get the ideas? Didn't he spend them all in the 90s? He produced 135 episodes of Seinfeld and 110 episodes of Curb! That's unbelievable. 

Clears throat, musters best Broadway voice: 

"How do you write like you're running out of time?"

"How do you write like you need it to survive?"

"How do you write every second you're alive, every second you're alive!?!"

I am as jealous of his writing quantity (and quality!) as I am his ability to turn his classic horseshoe pattern into an indelible icon of unshaven baldness.

As with Seinfeld, Curb created language for concepts we all recognized but never labeled. The social assassin. The middle at a dinner party. The chat and cut. The accidental text on purpose. He made us realize that 70-year olds could be orphans too, and that a parent who truly cared wouldn't bother a son with the news of his mother's death.

Once upon a time Larry got caught dating two girls at once. A common trope yes, but the fact that the two were both wheelchair-bound, with their most identifying feature replacing their last names in his phone shattered me. I laughed so hard I got asthma. 

Girl 1: "Who the hell is she?"

Larry: "Wendy Wheelchair."

Girl 2: "And who is she?"

Larry: "Denise ... Handicap?"

There's just something about Larry's face, his wild hair, his expressions that make me smile. Shoutout for waiting 28 years to stuff the Seinfeld finale back in everyone's face. 

#4. 30 Rock

Once upon a time a colleague told me they didn't like 30 Rock. Then she died.

Well, maybe she didn’t. I’m not sure. I know I have never acknowledged her presence since that point in time. She speaks, I ignore. What's that? You don't like water? You hate Christmas? I am not surprised. 

To dislike 30 Rock is to dislike joy. It is to look into the eyes of one of our funniest human beings -- Tina Fey, ye headmaster of humor -- and say, you are boring. It is unconscionable. 30 Rock is the show so ripe with comedic detail that Bryan Farnsworth paused a scene so he could zoom in on a prop newspaper to read what the writers had snuck in. It is the show that generated an industry-best 7.44 jokes per minute. I repeat, PER MINUTE. It is the show whose theme song I'll be humming on repeat when I'm washed up in a rest home in Greenland. It is as fine as TV as exists. 

The only reason it isn't higher on this list is because show #3 changed the world, #2 is my soulmate, and #1 is untouchable. 

#3. Seinfeld

Seinfeld is an institution. It changed culture. It changed TV. It changed me. Time cannot dim it. It carries generations: obviously I watched, as did my parents, as did my grandparents, as will my kids soon enough. 76 million people watched the series finale. That number makes me giggle. I cannot add to what has already been written one thousand times over about this masterpiece. 

As I look in wonder at the Egyptian pyramids, so in year 3400 will civilization look back at Seinfeld. 

#2. The OC

What can I say, this show will always be perfect to me. Granted, I am willing to admit that Ryan and Marissa's chemistry may have been amateur, that Luke's hyperspeed turn from bully to comedy relief to afterthought was pure whiplash, that Julie Cooper's ever expanding depravity pushed the limits of believability, that the show blew 60% of its best ideas in the first season. 

It matters not. 

A marriage may not be perfect, but you can still have a soulmate, and if Jackie is my soulmate in real life, The O.C is the my TV equivalent. I was absorbed in every relationship the series featured: Sandy and Ryan, Ryan and Marissa, Marissa and Summer, Summer and Seth, Anna and Seth, Julie and Kristen, Kristen and Ryan, Kristen and Sandy, and of course, the richest (b)romance of them all, Ryan and Seth. 

The O.C. burrowed into my heart and never left. Whenever I hear that iconic theme song I'm teleported back to 2003. In fact, it happened to me just a couple of weeks ago. In California, ironically, at Disneyland, where distractions are infinite, this song came on while leaving our lobby.

I knew instantly where I'd first heard it: when Anna gave up Seth at the airport, yielding her dream boy to her rival Summer, yet another case of soulmates. For two minutes I was 18 again, shooting hoops in the driveway during commercials, wondering if wearing Ryan's white tank top would help in wooing my own girl next door. 

Just one season later I'd have to say my own goodbye to Seth. What was the hardest part of going on a mission? Learning Spanish? Leaving Climps? Abandoning females? Missing 26 BYU football games? Or was it to be left wondering what would happen to my best friends in The O.C? When Elder Garlac begged our MTC teacher for weekly updates, his silence was more painful than the tree of life group showers. 

Remember the vibes of Gossip Girl? The O.C one-upped even those by swapping New York City for cliffside mansions and dang it those heart-to-heart conversations just mean more when they happen on the perfectly sunset beach, in the shadow of a lifeguard lookout. 

It's easy to dismiss The O.C now that 20 years have passed and its most relevant moment is the SNL skit that mocks a finale that I'm embarrassed to say I dug. But man when this show was hot IT WAS HOT. The Ringer ranked the pilot episode as the 12th best episode of TV from ... this entire century. 12th!! Its peers on that list are the best of the best: #11 The Wire (“Middle Ground”), #8 Succession (“Connor’s Wedding”), #6 Breaking Bad (“Ozymandias”), #5 The Sopranos (“Pine Barrens”), #3 Game of Thrones (“The Rains of Castamere”) #2 Mad Men (“The Suitcase”).

The OC also holds this claim to fame: no episode of TV has brought me closer to tears than when Ryan and Seth split up at the end of the first season, one leaving for paternal duties, another leaving because he had no reason to stay. I was wrecked. Of all the love stories TV offers, their platonic turned brotherly version struck me deepest.  

What more can I say? Seth is my favorite TV character ever, Sandy my favorite TV parent, the Cohen's my favorite family, "California" my favorite theme song, Ryan and Seth my favorite duo, and The O.C would be my favorite TV show ever, if it wasn't for an epic, violent, globe-trotting, unfortunately way too nude, Lord of the Rings on steroids masterclass waiting in the wings. 

Dragonwings, to be exact. 

#1. Game of Thrones

In 2017 I had a confusing boss named Ivan. He was confusing in part because I didn't know exactly how to pronounce his name. Some pronounced it 'eye-vin', some 'ee-von', and one particularly odd cat 'Iv-in'.99. It didn't help that Ivan referred to himself by these variants as well. Shades of Boo-nuh vs Bun-uh. The other thing that troubled me is that he and I had not one single thing in common. After a few months of sleuthing, I uncovered the one blip of interest he held in the entire pop culture universe: Game of Thrones. 

I wasn't prepared to watch a porno in order to connect with a boss, but I figured I could read the book and talk to him that way. And let me tell you those 700 pages came and went in a matter of hours - not since Harry Potter had one series captivated me so thoroughly. By the time I finished the third book it was pretty clear that I had to give the TV show a try. By the time I caught up to George Martin it was a no-brainer. If I wanted to follow this story through to the end I'd have to get HBO. 

I paired my login with an application called VidAngel, an LDS editing site that would bypass nudity or other editables as dictated by the viewer. I figured with the book background I could survive without the parade of boobs. I watched in this manner, missing entire scenes at times, like I had fallen asleep mid-show, which elicited an all-time comment from a pal named Tanner Scott.

"When you watch Game of Thrones edited, you disappoint both God and Satan." 

You know what didn't disappoint? Game of Thrones. I was so enthralled that in season 3 I recruited Jackie into the mix and restarted the whole series. I'd pause and provide Spencerpedia info where necessary: "You see, Jaime is called the Kingslayer, not as praise, but as a form of derision. He killed the Mad King, who was Dany's father, who ruled Kings Landing before Jaime's brother-in-law, who is best buds with Eddard, who first saw Jaime after he killed the Mad King, who was the dad of Bran who Jaime pushed out the window after Bran caught him hooking up with Eddard's friends' wife, who happens to be his own sister ..."

Jackie's eyes glaze over.

By the time we got to the final season I felt a level of excitement that resembles only two moments in my personal hype history: Christmas morning as a kid and Honeymoon afternoon as a married kid. But I was not alone; the Thrones enthusiasm was universal. My work had a bracket for who'd get the Iron Throne. The Minnesota Timberwolves rebranded as the Direwolves. Oreo put out of Game of Throreos. The Men in Blazers podcast trafficked in Ravens. It was nuts, Thrones was everywhere. 

The Sunday it came back happened to be my first time conducting in Bishopric and also Tiger Woods' first major win in 11 years. I remember Carson Wood grabbing me after church, delirious with excitement to tell me the Tiger news. I got misty eyed and to this day I'm not sure if it was happiness for a childhood hero, relief from surviving at the pulpit, or the fact that Winter was finally Coming. 

By the time the season ended everyone in the world had turned on the show. Not us. Jaime knighting Brienne, dragons lighting up the night in the Battle of Winterfell, Dany going full Khaleesi on King's Landing, that stuff was glorious, jaw-dropping TV, never to be forgotten. Sure, Bran taking the throne was lame, but I don't know how you can blame the showrunners when that was 100% driven by Martin. An unedited Starbucks cup does not bother me. 

At my peak, how deep into Thrones was I? Did I read the short stories of Duncan and Egg and the textbook-like House of the Dragon? Certainly. Did I buy every Game of Thrones board game available, including 2nd edition, Hand of the King, Betwixt, and even a Reigns phone game? I am embarrassed to say yes. Did I painstakingly write, craft, and tie 129 Thronesian ravens for Jackie's Christmas present in 2017?

I enjoyed every moment, from staining papers in coffee to crisping them in the oven to applying perfect wax seals to creating dopplegangers for my universe: Riverrun to Rivertonrun, Brienne to BriAnna, a red-headed ex the Red Woman, Johnson to Jonsnowsen, Spensa to Sansa, and my favorite of the bunch, where the role of Khaleesi, the unburnt mother of dragons was aptly filled by Karlie, the sunburnt mother of pooches. 

This show had so many I've-got-goosebump moments I once created a spreadsheet to try and rank them. But how do you compare the Night Watch betraying Jon Snow against Jaime's ballsy horse charge against Dany and Drogon? Ygritte's death vs the Hound's vs Joffrey's vs Tywin's? "Tell Cersei it was me" versus "Hold the door"? Hardhome vs Blackwater? I could go on - I had about 60 of these on the list. 

There may someday be a program that overtakes Thrones -- a good start would be to decrease the raping and the confusing names by two or three factors -- but I declare my belief that there will never be a back-to-back episode pairing as incredible as Battle of the Bastards and the Winds of Winter. I would stake those two hours of entertainment against any two hours of movie, video game, book, TV show, live concert, or sporting event that the world can offer. But for now I don't need to. There is no such competitor; Thrones stands alone. 

It was abbreviated as GoT but I always add an 'A', because as far as this blog is concerned GoT is the GOAT.