12 February 2008

Screaming with the Television On

I noticed last weekend that I have begun to talk back to the television. I don’t just send up a random, audible, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me” or “Go f*ck yourself, Countrywide. Predatory ass hats.” I, you know, talk to the little people in the teevee.

On the night in question The Hubster and I were watching Dr. Who – it has been firmly established that we are nerds – when I realized I was talking not to TH, but to the idiot driving the flying bus.

“You have three passengers now; you could drop down to the fast lane.” (You had to be there) Of course, twenty seconds later The Doctor said, “But I’m your third passenger, you could change now!”

*looked smugly at Hubster* “Told you so.”

Then yesterday I was chatting with Tom and Fab Boy when I realized this behavior might actually be… Oh, I don’t know. Odd? Annoying? A symptom of dopamine depletion?

All of the above?

It used to be that I only yelled at the teevee when our Fearless Leader was lying...er...giving a State of the Union Address. Or during political debates. Or during Meet the Press. Anyway, it was limited to angry outbursts focused on political figures.

Hubster told me he couldn’t watch debates with me anymore. But I SOLVED that problem! I now LIVE BLOG during debates and presidential lie-ins. I can vent into the ether and Hubster can view in peace.

Except that the political conversing is spilling over into fictitious programming.

I think I can trace it back to last year when we began watching Jericho, a post-apocalyptic “what would we all do if …?” sort of show.

“We need to buy a gun,” says I to nobody in particular. “What if something tragic happens and we have to protect ourselves - or hunt?”

“We could easily survive if society collapsed. We just need a few chickens and a goat. We could use the rental house as a barn,” again to nobody.

And now I KNOW I’m talking to the television and not to Hubster because he was not at home last night. I turned on the idiot box for company while I worked online, and “How I Met Your Mother” was on. A character, Barney, said something about having sex with women when I caught myself saying, “Except that you’re actually gay, Doogie Howser. Why would you come out in real life while you’re making big money playing a ladies man on television?”

Fortunately, Neil Patrick Harris did not answer my question. He just kept on playing Barney and I maintained my tenuous grip on sanity.

And now I KNOW that I have got to learn to keep my mouth shut during prime time because the first episode of the new season of Jericho begins tonight. I may have to get out the duct tape….

For you youngsters, the post title refers to this most excellent "B" side Billy Joel song.

5 comments:

Comet Girl said...

I’ve been talking to the teevee for years. I remember laughing at my Grandmother when she used to talk back to the Soaps when I was a child. And then it started for me with what show? “Days of Our Lives”. If nothing else, remember you are now in the South and we relish our crazy people. Yankees lock theirs in the attic and Southerners display theirs in the parlor for everyone to appreciate. Girl, you are in the parlor now with the rest of us! Welcome!

fatboyfat said...

Consider yourself tagged !

Tom said...

I'm gonna go ahead and hope that I was making deep and insightful points while we were having this conversation. About the only time I can do that is in these imaginary conversations.

BTW, I have made that same observation to Neil Patrick Harris, so either he's not listening, or he really can't hear us because he's not really IN the TV.

Maybe this is the reason they lock me in the attic. Now it all makes sense.

City Girl said...

LOL

Tom: If you didn't check back in on Thursday's Fab Boy post (Get Lent)it was more of a one-sided conversation.

Fab Boy: Damn you! Another meme! Okay, I'll play.

Country Girl said...

Keeping in mind I'm alone about five hours a day, I talk to everything in this house. Only problem is the damn dog keeps interrupting.