Everybody needs downtime. My husband’s version? He comes home from work, heads straight to his man cave, lights a cigar, flips on the news, and decompresses. Most nights he doesn’t even peek his head into the house to let me know he’s home.
Meanwhile, I find myself getting bent out of shape because I think I should be his #1 priority. He should walk into the house, give me a hug and try to pretend he’s listening to the things that only matter to me. I’d been waiting all day to tell him the earth-shattering news that Judge Judy rolled her eyes in perfect synchronization with mine. A cosmic event worth reporting.
For years this has been our on-going tug-of-war. I’ve taken it personally for far too long. A few days ago, I decided it was time to let it go. I finally drilled it into my head: my husband has a stressful job, and he needs to deflate before he can give me his full attention. His retreat isn’t an insult to me – it’s his survival.
Days when he attempts to give me a few minutes before he heads for the shed, it’s obviously painful for him. I’d compare it to the way a kid gives up candy – reluctantly, mournfully, and with visible suffering. I really believe he thinks the shed might vanish if he doesn’t get there fast enough.
The last thing any of us want after a long day is to be ambushed with conversation. Nobody wants to be forced to speak or even listen for that matter when we’re still mentally unwinding. Sometimes even eye contact is too much. And truth be told, I’m no different.
My winding-down ritual is simple: I slip into comfy clothes, if I’m not already wearing them, grab a snack and settle onto the couch with my laptop where it was made for – my lap, of course. The unfortunate part of that ritual – the snacking. It’s like a package deal I can’t seem to break.
Do I watch anything meaningful? Heck no. I’m usually on my laptop or phone, half-watching whatever’s on. And when I can’t find anything good, I resort to the DVR – one of the greatest inventions of our time, right up there with GPS.
There she is – Judge Judy, my de-escalating hero.
Yes, I’m a Judge Judy fan and not afraid to admit it. I’ve even roped my 14-year-old granddaughter into watching it with me, and when she was here at Thanksgiving, we binged together. There’s something about Judy’s unapologetic bluntness – the way she looks at a plaintiff and says, “You’re an absolute idiot. What’s the matter with you? There’s seriously something’s wrong with you,” that has me laughing out loud.
When I first started watching Judge Judy and she looked a litigant dead in the eye and said, “You’re an idiot,” I dropped my jaw. I felt secondhand embarrassment, imagining that poor defendant clutching their dignity like a purse. If they had any dignity to begin with, it’s gone now.
But then I read an article about how the show works – and suddenly I saw it differently. The litigants know exactly what they’re signing up for. They’ve watched Judy roast people for decades. They know she’s harsh, they know she’s going to belittle them, and they still show up – because even if she rules against them, the show pays the award.
That’s right: free flight, hotel, food expense, TV time, and a chance to be publicly called an idiot by a legend. That’s showbiz. Plus, even if you lose, you win.
While I was typing this, I saw a parallel. When insults leave the TV courtroom and enter the Oval Office, the stakes change. Mockery from a TV judge brings laughs; mockery from a president is no laughing matter. And unlike Judy’s litigants, nobody walks away from being name-called by the president with perks or compensation.
A president mocking people, groups, or reporters – is not entertainment, it’s erosion. A president isn’t a TV personality; he’s the steward of a nation. His words carry weight.
If a schoolteacher called a student “stupid” or an “idiot,” parents would be in an uproar. They’d demand that teacher be fired immediately. Yet somehow, we turn a blind eye and make excuses when our president does it – and he does it almost daily.
Anyway, that’s a parallel I couldn’t ignore. Continuing on.
Another reason I love Judge Judy? The show makes me feel fortunate. 99% of the people on her show come from hard lives, many of them uneducated, tangled up in problems that make mine look trivial. And yet she handles it all with humor, sass and a raised eyebrow that could command more authority than her gavel.
The other day I caught an episode where Judge Judy absolutely nailed the art of mockery. A plaintiff gave the most naïve answers and Judy pounced – rolling her eyes, shrugging her shoulders and repeating the line back with razor-sharp sarcasm. I couldn’t help but laugh and watched it a dozen times.
Every single replay cracks me up just as much as the first. Watch it for yourself. I’ve attached it here. If you don’t even crack a smile, there’s something wrong with you.
Before Judge Judy became my background noise, it was Grace and Frankie. I’m so clearly Frankie in that sitcom. The banter between Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda is sharp, hilarious, and right up my alley. They play well off each other. I’m sure I’ve watched each season half a dozen times.
It doesn’t matter if I’m paying attention – the TV just needs to be on in the background, keeping me company. Isn’t it funny how we turn the TV on like it’s a roommate? We can be folding laundry, scrubbing dishes or scrolling on our phones, and yet that TV chatter feels like a companion. Grace and Frankie have been my comfort soundtrack, my invisible houseguests, and my background noise.
This is my downtime. This is how I choose to de-escalate. Case closed.
So, raise your glass with me.
After years of trying to convince my husband to walk through the door, give me a hug, and shower me with undivided attention – and realizing that’s just not going to happen, I’m finally… letting it go.
Here’s to my unapologetic joy of watching a woman in a black robe with a lace collar tell the world exactly what she thinks. My decompression just happens to involve a sitcom soulmate and a sharp-tongued judge who can roll her eyes better than anyone alive.
To downtime, to laughter, and to my hero, Judge Judy. Courtroom adjourned!
