Apologetic Prologue: First off, I know yesterday’s acquisition of a Hi-Def TV and TiVo sound like bragging. Right after I got my hours cut in half in the last recession a co-worker told me how wonderful his TiVo was and I wanted him to use it in the tub.
But I remind myself that during the Great Depression escapist screwball comedies about the carefree rich were popular. Once again, I have become Margaret Dumont.
So! Gary is celebrating my birthday month by raining down electronics on our house. He got the Hi-Def for the living room earlier this year, but it was attached to a low-def tiVo, plus I don’t wear my eyeglasses at home sometimes. (Try it! It’s like a druggie holiday for your eyes.) At any rate, for “my” birthday I bent to the inevitable and asked for a hi-def TiVo. So, this left a low-def TiVo, which Gary said could not be attached to the teeny tv in the guest / music / girly room. And by “could not be” he meant “I refuse to sully a TIvo with that clunky box.”
This how I ended up with a giant tv plugged on the top shelf of the closet. Typical double-door closet, but no doors, housing a folded treadmill and now a giant TV. If you stand up you can only see the bottom half of the TV, but there’s a perfect view if you lie down on the bed. I know because I spent the evening there. Because it’s my birthday month.
So that’s whats been going on in the house tonight: we’ve been in our separate rooms with our separate TVs setting up our separate tiVOs. For an hour all you could hear in our house was a circle round of be-BOOP! BE-boop. Be-BOOP! BE-boop.
So, gone are Denise Richards(:It’s Complicated) and The Sarah Connor Chronicles from “my” TIVo, previously the family tiVo. Gary bebooped all the elbow-friendly shows on to our new family tiVo, then he just kept booping. I don’t know what’s out there.
First I booped on every “Hollywood’s 10 Most … 15 Most … 101 Most” show. Gary just shudders if those are cluttering the tivO. Then I hit the previously prohibited stand-up comedians, and then the documentaries. (And if you ever speak to Gary and he talks about my love of “Reality TV,” that’s what he calls documentaries. Reality TV. Seriously.)
So when I am not influenced by my husband, this is what I am a docu-sucker for.
Nazis Looking Stupid (Nazi UFOs, Hitler and the Occult)
Americans Looking Stupid, and Other Frauds (The 9/11 Impostor, Masterminds)
Ancient Mysteries Solved (Stonehenge Deciphered, Mysterious Hanging Coffins of China)
Feral Children (only one feral children show coming up! Come on!)
Disasters (Ultimate Earthquake, Mega Disasters, When Weather Makes History, Seconds from Disaster, Engineering Disasters)
… and oddly, cancer. That category is limited to tales of people surviving cancer, including my favorite: God Said, Ha. A MUST-SEE for anyone with cancer or anticipating cancer sometime in her life because life just sucks like that. (“I LOVE my shunt!” If you know what that means, you’ve seen it. Hilarious.)
Oh, and speaking of Mom (Mom didn’t have cancer, but she would have loved her shunt too), I picked up one episode of “Little People, Big World,” because when she was in the hospital toward the end of her stay she would say, “Four o’clock. Midgets.” and I had to explain the hospital did not get the … Little People … channel. When she came back home I tried to say, “Mom! It’s four! Midgets!” But she was no longer interested.
What I need is a documentary on a feral child who was a favorite of Hitler and died on the Hindenburg. Of cancer. With a shunt.
9 responses to “What My TiVo Says About Me”
Danger! Danger! I predict the end of the touching elbows. Which are touching at present. (See what I’ve done there?)
We sit in the living room, me watching TV with earphones on, he bathed in the light from his laptop, neither of us moving or speaking all evening. The kids meanwhile are in their rooms also glued to various screens.
Hey nonny no for the old days of cheery sing-songs around the piano! Oh, yes, right, they never happened…
…a very short feral child.
::What I need is a documentary on a feral child who was a favorite of Hitler and died on the Hindenburg. Of cancer. With a shunt.::
…While crab fishing in the Bering Sea, hoping not to be voted off the island for designing a horrible outfit for the runway.
…And whose puppies are just downwind of a chemical spill created by a five vehicle pileup involving a tanker truck outside the army base.
…with the Navy yard mere blocks away with ships containing chemicals that explode on contact with the water, where onlookers are getting a festive display of fireworks just onshore.
I think you need to write the documentary about Hitler’s favorite feral midget child who died on the Hindenburg of cancer despite the shunt.
Big Dot – Gary is branching out to ankles now. Kinky!~~Silk – In Search of Hitler’s Homunculus3 – … while being set up with a millionaire bachelor…Caroline – a tanker truck of grain, that then explodes like a grain silo…Becs – I LOVE THOSE CHEMICALS. Seriously, when researching the chemical project there were stories of people trying to dispose of those checmicals by burning them, then the fire would get out of control and spread the chemical as smoke through the neighborhood, so then they’d alway turn the garden hose on the fire. bwhwhhahaha.Magpie – even better – Raised by Animals: Hitler’s Doomed Homunculus.
Cheese sandwich.
Caroline – Cheese sandwich will equal chemistry to me for the rest of my life.