I love television. I think I have made that abundantly clear over the past few years. But the funny thing is that I’m not picky about the television I watch, which seems a bit counterintuitive. I tried to change that last week, but a retailer wouldn’t let me.
As time goes on, we begin to take the conveniences of life for granted. We refuse to go to gas stations without “pay at the pump.” We don’t even think about using a human cashier when we can ring up our own items. And God forbid we get out of the car to go inside a bank.
Well, at least those things are true for me.
I have started to take something else wonderful for granted, something that puts every other gadget to shame.
Digital video recorders.
Now that the Olympics have started, Americans can put on display the thing they do better than anyone else in the world. Whining.
I love a good chance to complain as much as the next guy, maybe even more, but we really ramp it up as a nation when the Olympics roll around.
It seems as if we have to make fun of a sport or complain about its foreign nature if we’re not good at it. Where’s the American spirit in that?
I didn’t even really notice that the Golden Globe Awards took place last week. But when I heard about the goodies in store for those in attendance, I sat up and took notice. The audience members received a goodie bag worth more than $1,300 of stuff while the movie stars who announced the winners received a bag of junk worth more than $62,000.
First of all, wow. Secondly, why do they call it a goodie “bag?” Do the stars get a huge bag with a vacuum cleaner, an espresso machine and a pair of jeans? If so, that must be a pain to get home, even if you did come in a limo.
Does the air smell sweeter? Are the flowers prettier? Do the chicken wings seem meatier? Yes, folks, television season has started again. Thank God, we can return to our normal lives.
I thought the summer would never end. I imagine all the televisions in purgatory are permanently tuned to summer programming. The horror.
But Bree Van de Kamp and Denny Crane have helped rescue us from the morass of low-grade reality shows and sporadic reruns and not a moment too soon.
I often think I missed my calling. Writing should be a hobby, not my main profession. The confirmation of that fact came this past week as television networks released their fall schedules. Television needs me in charge of things.
You sometimes hear about the drug problem in entertainment and the schedules clearly reflected the depth of that problem.
I know I have what it takes to replace the people in charge of planning the schedules. I don’t need some fancy degree from film school or an extensive marketing background.
Through diligent research, I have compiled a mental database of what works and what doesn’t. The warm blue glow of the television has instilled me with supernatural powers.
That has to trump the drug-addled brains of today’s executives.