For Class I will be starting a new blog titled: What Makes a Megahit. I could give a quick summary but instead, I will post the blogs Mission Statement below. I will be posting every update for that blog under this tab from now on.

When I was ten, I dreamed of one thing, and one thing only. I didn’t want love, fame, or fortune; I wanted to fist pump on the Jersey Shore.

I distinctly remember watching the first episode; it was a rerun, from a few nights before. I was sitting in my Uncle’s summer house surrounded by eight kids all around my age. The beach was a one-minute walk from the small Cape Cod shack, but the gorgeous salt-sea was no match for that tiny TV. The sun was setting behind us as the first bright orange Guido stepped foot on screen.

Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino walked into an empty shore-house, the architecture the same summer style that hung around all of us: tables decorated with errant shells, and walls coated in thin wood. The Situation pointed to a big captain’s wheel hanging on the wall, and we all looked up and laughed at the very same piece hanging above the thick-backed TV.

Every moment that episode produced was poetry in motion: From watching a real person introduce herself to people she was meeting for the very first time as, “Jwoww.” To hearing Ronnie’s dolphin-esque laugh squeak out through the house. To seeing that a person as small, as drunk, and as tan as Snooki could truly exist. We all laughed watching as Sammi and Sitch held hands like a married couple while strolling down the Jersey Boardwalk, only a few hours after meeting one another. Finally, and most importantly, we saw the beautiful budding bromance between Pauly D and Vinny; a bromance I so desperately wanted one day.

The show was a megahit in its time. It was the dawn of social media and texting, and everybody with a phone was constantly glued to it. Apparently, everybody was raving about this new show: Jersey Shore. Nobody could believe it was real. The eight of us only watched in that small shack because everybody else in the world had told us that we must. 

Jersey Shore was beautiful because of how foreign it was. These people lived and breathed the same air I did, but they were different. The first four seasons of Jersey Shore were raw humanity televised. Everybody on the show lacked shame, self-awareness, and any semblance of foresight.

The show debuted in 2009 and it was perfect for its time.

2009 began with the worst month of the Great Recession, seeing 800,000 jobs lost. The housing bubble had burst the year before, 10 million people were being forced out of their homes, and soon more were to join them.

A viciously contentious McCain-Obama election had just been settled, and the United States, only 136 years removed from the abolition of slavery, had a black president. Some thought Obama was going to bring an end to the world, others thought swine flu would kill us all, and most were pretty sure, but not certain, that we might die in three years. 2012–the supposed end of times–loomed and was even made into a horrible movie starring an especially constipated looking Nic Cage.

2009’s woes were not all governmental, as popular culture–the typical escape also took a hit. 2009 pop culture was marred by the mysterious death of Michael Jackson–which caused widespread fear of some unseen illuminati to reach a fever pitch. Somali Pirates captured a US ship and held it hostage for days. Even in people’s escapes, nothing was certain, and everything was horrifying.

Thus, Jersey Shore struck the perfect chord. Anybody of any creed could come together, and we could laugh. We could laugh as 27-year olds wearing massive fake-gold Crosses and graphic tees humped each other in a grimy club to terrible music. When Jersey Shore was on, nothing else mattered. There was only those eight, orange, raving lunatics on our screen.

My love for Jersey Shore inspired this blog. Hopefully that does not immediately discredit me. I do not think Jersey Shore is the best show ever made, but this was my first moment living through a true cultural phenomenon. For one hour a week, three months out of the year, we could forget our impending doom. We could forget the horrible truth that was the US economy. We could finally live in the moment, and for once, we could laugh.

Every wildly popular TV show tells a story of the moment it existed in, just like Jersey Shore did.

Each week I’ll be posting a piece dissecting a megahit TV show, along with the era and aura that allowed that show to thrive in its time. Each piece could be a singular moment in comparison to a singular show, or an overview of the time period in comparison to a singular show. Either way, copious research will be done into everybody’s favorite decade: the 2010’s.

The term “megahit” is, of course, subjective but I will only discuss something that I believe was truly a piece of popular culture.  I also will only be discussing shows that I actually lived through, because I can give a better voice to those.

Ultimately, I want to know why a show thrived in the moment that it did, and why it succeeded or why it flamed out. There are so many shows that dominate popular culture for one moment, then all of a sudden, they’re gone. The lion’s share of my posts will be on the flameouts, because their fire always burns the brightest, and it’s always more fun to look at what people choose to forget.