I recently went on a four-day cruise with my girls. Sun, great beaches, a nice chance to get away from it all. Leave all the technology behind and relax, yes?

I did. Others, not so much. I was astounded at how many people couldn’t take a short break from their phone and their laptop, even in the sunny, warm Caribbean.

Example: we spent a day in the Bahamas at Atlantis. This resort has an amazing water park, beautiful beaches and pools, a huge aquarium, even a casino for those child-free adults. Plenty of things for people to do. Get this: the chairs in the lobby were occupied by adults/teenagers on their iPhones or iMacs. Seriously. I wanted to tell them to get off their duffs, apply some sunscreen and get outside.
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When I heard Michael Jackson died, I felt like part of my youth had permanently disappeared.

For me, learning of his death is now one of those moments where I’ll always remember what I was doing at the time. I was at Kohl’s, looking for shoes. I had to put down the Dana Buchman flats and fire up my BlackBerry to make sure what I overheard was, in fact, true.

Being a forty-something woman, Michael’s music was a huge part of my teenage and college years. I went through a phase where I wanted to be a “Thriller” dancer. I practiced that damn Moon Walk for hours after seeing him slide backwards during a “Billie Jean” performance. I consumed alcohol more than once listening to “Bad.” The jukebox (yes; I am dating myself now) at my favorite neighborhood pub had lots of classic Jackson Five tunes.

And, who could forget the lip-sync in college where my whole sorority performed “We are the World.” I was Ray Charles. Ah, good times. Why we didn’t win that talent show, I’ll never know.
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I am an admitted TV junkie and watch quite a few programs a week. My hands-down favorite, I-will-stop-what-I’m-doing-and-watch, drama at present is In Treatment.

In Treatment is an HBO series about Paul Weston (played by Gabriel Byrne, my new celebrity crush), who is a therapist in Brooklyn. Each episode features a patient coming for their weekly therapy session. The fifth episode (there are five a week) has Paul at his own therapy. Dianne Wiest plays Paul’s mentor/psychologist, and she is amazing in that role.

The story lines are very compelling. There’s a 40-something single attorney who wants to find a boyfriend and have a family, a girl in her early 20s diagnosed with cancer, and a boy coping with his parents’ pending divorce. John Mahoney (from Frasier) also is one of Paul’s patients, playing a CEO who recently lost his job.

The drama also delves some into Paul’s life. He is coping with his own recent divorce, and is being sued for malpractice by a former patient’s estate. He is also grappling with his father’s recent death. While the focus is on the patients’ stories, you do get to know some about Paul in the process, and you see how the events in his life shape his work.

The sessions can get intense. As someone who’s spent time on the couch myself, I find the banter between Paul and his patients very realistic.  With no commericials, the 20-some minutes fly by.

A recent Entertainment Weekly review said In Treatment was perhaps “the most habit-forming TV show on the air.” I concur. This is must-see-TV at its finest.

I was watching American Idol last night, waiting for Ryan Seacrest to announce how many gazillion people voted and who would be leaving the competition. (By the way, America got it wrong; no way should Allison have been voted off.) But the whole time, I was thinking about what other programs I could be watching instead.

Perhaps this may be an unpopular opinion, but I think American Idol has jumped the proverbial shark.

American Idol used to be a huge priority in my TV week. I used to provide running commentary online to my friends. I wouldn’t take phone calls during the show and furiously dialed and redialed for my favorites when it was over.  I even watched the cheesy Ford music videos.

There are still many talented musicians on the show (although Adam is a little too theatrical for my taste). I enjoy the performances. But I don’t find myself compelled to pick up the phone and hit redial like I did a few years back.

What’s causing American Idol to lose its lustre? In my opinion:
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I haven’t been into the TV as much these days. American Idol and Dancing with the Stars are boring me to tears, and other series are saving the big guns for sweeps next month. But there are a couple programs worthy of my precious DVR space. The Real Housewives of New York City is one of those shows.

Don’t be deluded into thinking that the Real Housewives are even close to real. These are women with cash to burn (or big credit limits) and are into the whole high-society scene.

First there’s LuAnn. She is a Countess by marriage and is writing a book on etiquette. Watch this woman in action for about five minutes and you will see the irony with this book. It’s been announced since the show finished taping that she’s getting a divorce from the Count, leaving her, well, Count-less.
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