Why do so many care about Emmys?

I don't, but maybe I should. After all, a bunch of people (some whose opinions I respect and others I've never heard of) just made their annual reviews of the recently announced Emmy nominations: Applause for those rightly named; shock at the righteous-yet-ignored.

I don't share the angst, nor the ebullience. 

For years I've asked myself what does an Emmy mean to me as a viewer, and I don't get compelling answers. Other than — big perhaps, history proves — a little longer run on the air for one of the series I happen to like, what else does it mean? A reenforcement or rejection of what I choose to watch by voters I'll never meet.

That's just not that important to me.

Another effect is that already-famous people get recognized and they can demand higher pay. As a viewer and one who buys groceries, that really doesn't make a difference in my life. 

Here's another possible reason to care: Worthy artists receive justified recognition. From whom? Their peer members of the Academy. People just like you and me? I don't think so. People we'd truly enjoy hanging out with? Sometimes, maybe. People of unmistakable good taste and meticulous judgment when they consider their votes? Considering how much video dung is produced by and for some of those voting members, I'd bet many's definition of excellence has nothing to do with coming close to perfection.

Should awards be given for inbreeding? That's pretty much what so many of awards events are: Hollywood's first- and second-cousins bestowing honors on each other. The phrase "kind of like being kissed by your sister" seems appropriate — though inbreeding results from a bit more than kissing.

What it means, I think, is that in a medium already teeming with competitions that crown someone "best," the Big Daddy of all TV competitions is just another program, one with a higher budget and longer cast list. 

The television business gushes about itself and we're made to believe we should care. I still don't. Probably never will.