come, rot your brain with me

I've spent the better part of the last, well, two years really, without cable television. Or at least regular access, and honestly for much of that time I didn't even have network TV. I had a laptop and a semi-reliable connection to a Japanese web site that allowed me to stream grainy episodes of The Gilmore Girls with subtitles, in Japanese, in orange puffy bubble letters. JEALOUS?

I'm telling you all this in hopes that you'll forgive me what I'm about to tell you, which is that since arriving home almost exactly one month ago I have consumed so many hours of television that I think I can once and for all put to rest the myth that it rots your brain because by God, if it did, mine would be PEA SOUP by now. There are just so many shows, and so much happening, and the colors and the shiny things and OH, THE CHANNELS! The hundreds and hundreds of channels and the flipping and the choices, and do I want to watch an America's Next Top Model marathon or an episode of The Rachel Zoe Project that I have watched every day for the last week or perhaps the 37th episode of Dateline on Investigation Discovery I've consumed in three days and scare myself out of being able to sleep for a month? IT ALL SOUNDS SO GOOD.

I've been justifying most of it by reminding myself that I am making up for lost time, catching up on old favorite shows, getting reacquainted after what has seemed like a two year lovers' quarrel. And in this reacquainting, I have made a few observations that I need to share. Disclaimer: If you don't watch a disgusting amount of TV, you may never have heard of any of this.

1. At the end of the commercial for the new Elmo Tickling Hands, probably around the time when you're trying to figure out what these damn things are for other than providing a very natural segue into the "good touch, bad touch" conversation, all the kids make B-Boy poses and Elmo says "YEEEEEEAH BOY!" Since when did Flavor Flav write TV spots?

2. Pretty much every time I see one of those Foundation for a Better Life commercials I get choked up. Despite the fact that I honestly could not begin to tell you what the EFF the Foundation for a Better Life is or what it does, other than make me weepy at the little boy playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" with the concert pianist.

3. No matter the time of day or night, I can ALWAYS find an episode of either Dateline, 20/20 or 48 Hours playing on at least one network and chances are, there will be two to choose from. What this facilitates is an unforuntate pattern in which I watch some horrifying hour-long saga about a family whose very father chops them up into tiny pieces and buries them underneath a shed in the backyard before buying season tickets to the Mets with the insurance money RIGHT before bed and inevitably I'm so unsettled that I can't bring myself to turn the TV off until I'm sure I'll fall right asleep as soon as I roll over.

4. I would be interested in speaking to someone regarding laws about truth in advertising, specifically relating to the newest NuvaRing commercial in which a women claims, and I quote, "I love this commercial!" in reference to the original synchronized-swimming black and white minute-long trip to the seventh circle of hell. I promise you, there is no one, NO ONE, in his or her right mind who would actually enjoy a commercial that implants a song whose words are the DAYS OF THE GOD DAMN WEEK so, so, SO far into your brain that it simply will not come out, no matter how many times you blast "Panama" at maximum volume because THIS JINGLE, it is the Manuel Noriega of television advertising.

5. I should not be allowed to watch "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." I am extremely susceptible to irrational fear mongering, and am not totally unconvinced a baby won't come flying out of me at any moment.

6. Are there people who still watch MTV? I think every one of the programs on the network could aptly be renamed, True Life: I'm Skanky White Trash or True Life: No Really, My Mom Smoked Crack When She Was Pregnant With Me. Or maybe you could just call it the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Network. I want my FASN doesn't have the same ring to it, I guess.

7. TLC's latest show about pageants is about a gentleman who coaches young ladies on how to take home the glory. The show is called "King of the Crown," which is mostly hysterical because in fact he is a HUGE QUEEN.


Happy channel surfing.


cheers,
elizabeth