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I said goodbye to two old friends last week, although it was hardly sad, and not really goodbye anyway.

A favorite television show ended, for one thing. I watched the finale and appreciated the elegant closure, although I wasn’t sorry. The time I’d invested in this story was minimal, spread out over several years, half an hour of enjoyment at a time. I felt a little tug of affection, and that was that. Because I can just watch the whole series again, of course.

Like Billy Pilgrim in Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse-Five,” we’re all unstuck in time when it comes to TV. We can ju...