And now for The Walking Dead, and the lessons they’ve taught me.
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You were bound to find out. I’m a liar. I mean, I do sleep a lot because I love sleeping so that part from my blog the other day is not a lie. But, the part where I said I don’t watch a lot of TV? That was a lie. A big, fat, bald-faced lie – so called because 18th-19th century businessmen often grew beards to mask facial expressions when making “deals,”(Check it out http://tinyurl.com/5s9k7). By the way, though: Props to bald people. Get a rough end of it, don’t they? But back to me. I’m obsessed with TV right now. It wasn’t always like...
“I’m the freaking boss of TV, just so you know.”
Filed under: Deep South, education, Everyday, family, humor
I’ve made no little secret about the fact that growing up, as I did, the television was not the center of the universe. Not in our house. It was carefully guarded: it and all its wonders of delicious and suggestive programming. The only television station that I was allowed to watch, almost entirely on my own and un-chaperoned, was good, old PBS. And, oh, how I watched it: Letter People, Clyde the Frog, Voyage of the Mimi, and one of my all-time faves, Read All About It. Even learning, early on, how to convince U.L. that some shows were appropriate—How could they...
When TVs were furniture.
When I was growing up, we only had three channels on TV. Four, if the weather held and the antenna was cooperative. Those precious, precious channels were 2, 4, 9, and sometimes 11. If not for the fickle, rusty antenna, I may very well have developed an unnatural kinship with the TV. Oh, that antenna...a genuine eyesore, standing as it had my whole life, like a Sentry a little above the chimney; it also served as a lightning rod, so you know, we had to decide which was more important: ABC on Channel 11 coming out of Meridian legibly, or a house on fire if we were ever...
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