We got a new TV a few weeks back. It's a pretty nice TV, and we like to watch movies on it.
We get lousy reception here in our little burg in Happy Valley, so we get the most basic package the city cable offers. As in, it costs eight bucks a month and has about 20 channels, including the channel that tells you what's on... and I have only ever watched what comes on the first twelve channels. The other, unappreciated channels are several of the forty thrillion ESPN's, the local access and some Spanish channels.
The channel that tells you what's on, is number 22... and it does not distinguish if you are a loser with the loser-basic or the bigger packages that include the Disney Channel and TNT... so it makes you wait while it cycles through and shows you what is on every single frippin' channel under the sun. Dadguy has a talent, and you ought to know that it is documented that every time he turns the channel to number 22 to verify that yes indeed, there is nothing on... the cycle has just passed the channels that we actually have. Every. Single. Time.
The choice then is threefold.
1. Wait and look at all the stuff that you wouldn't watch, on channels that you don't have until the cycle is complete and starts over again. At which time you can verify that there is nothing on TV and turn it off.
2. Channel surf, verifying first hand that there is nothing on and try to time it back to channel 22 to get the absolute confirmation that, YES there really is nothing on. Miss the cycle and try again and again, get frustrated and turn off the TV.
3. Turn off the TV, for the love of Mike there is NOTHING ON!
Needless to say.... Tivo? Huh?
Two nights ago Dadguy and I had gotten the Chaos in bed and were prepping Pearl for her nigh-night routine. I had just gotten her a clean doobah on her bum and Dadguy turned the TV on with the working remote.... w00t! He turned it to 22 and we both watched agog, as it was a mere five seconds from beginning the cycle. Wow! I reached over and slapped his leg in congratulation. It was two seconds later that Dadguy said "hey, bon look!" I looked and there was Pearl moving her legs in a crawly-type fashion and her little self was motating forward. I watched breathlessly at first and then started cheering and clapping, whereupon she rolled back on one pudgy thigh and grinned. We were all pretty giddy. Needless to say we missed the cycle but that was OK, I'm pretty sure there was nothing on.