There are two things I can put on the TV that I know will always drive my Lovely Girlfriend from the room. Surprisingly, neither one of them is late night skin-o-max (I've got the coolest girlfriend). They are, in no particular order, Ultimate Fighting and Classic Car Auctions. It only takes a second of air time before she is out of the chair and headed to the bedroom to watch an episode of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. Granted, the gypsy lifestyle can be engrossing but as far as trash TV goes I'm partial to Flipping Out.
I mention this for two reasons. One, I miss my Lovely Girlfriend. Two, almost as much as I miss my Lovely Girlfriend, I miss driving my Lovely Girlfriend nuts. In my house my Father has always ruled the TV set. Until we got a television with remote control, I watched shows while standing next to the TV waiting to be instructed as to what channel to go to next. I don't think I got a full view of the screen until I was twelve. Even now, twenty-six years later, he has the run of the remote and after all these years he still channel surfs like Unfrozen Cave Man Lawyer. How could you not ever memorize the channels!? How is that possible?!
Honestly, I don't mind. We agree on almost all the same programming. Baseball - check. Football - check. Classic Car Auctions - check. Never Watching Women's Sports - double check. So I'm in no way complaining about what we're watching. What I'm complaining about and what I've come to realize is Classic Car Auctions are even more enjoyable when your viewership leads the person you care so much about to go batty. The violence of Mix Martial Arts is that much better when someone in the room has to look away.
Part of me knows that posting this will ruin Classic Car Auctions and Ultimate Fighting for me. Whenever it is that I do return to my couch and my 52" flatscreen and the moment comes that I put them on the screen instead of hearing a rather miffed "I guess I'll go upstairs," I'll be hearing "Awww, you really love me." Then, instead of watching said programs alone I'll be forced to cuddle (we call it C-time in my house) and will very likely miss the bloodshed or the chrome entirely. Despite all that, it will also mean that my valiant battle against the most curable form of cancer known to man is over and I am home again.
Bloodshed and Chrome - great name for a band.
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