Friday, April 12, 2013

The Great American DirectTV Shut Down

“So is that his wife?”

“No, it’s his girlfriend.  She’s hot.”

Of course she’s hot.  Graeme McDowell makes big checks.  Doesn't take a rocket scientist to make heads or tails of that deal.

I briefly look at the young woman on the TV under the green ball cap and make note of the long French- braid that hangs down to the side over her left shoulder.  I go back to my dinner dishes over the sink.

Is that a French braid?  What is that?  I think it has a special name.  Did she do her own hair?  Do girlfriends showing up at these stupid tournaments get hair people?

“You know, Tiger doesn’t even play in this?”  Jeff calls back to me from the couch.  Clearly he is thinking out loud.

“Oh, yeah.  Since he’s back to number one?”

“Well, this is the Par 3 contest.  Of course Tiger plays in the Masters; he just doesn’t participate in the Par 3.”

“Got it.”  I try to be a good wife and entertain his favorite subject; then it dawns on me.

“Wait!  Is this the tournament?  Is this the end?  Are we shutting Direct TV off this weekend?”

“This is the tournament.”  He looks back at me and smiles.  “But if play continues into Monday, we’ll shut it off Tuesday.”

“I can’t believe it’s here.”

And I can’t believe it’s here.  Jeff and I have been talking about the no Direct TV challenge for a couple months now.  He kept referring to a golf tournament a ways off, saying that we would shut it off after that tournament.

“There’s nothing you need to keep it on for?”  He kept asking me the past couple weeks.  “Housewives?  SVU?  Dateline?”

 I tend to go heavy on the depravity with my programming choices. 


“Snapped?  Are you sure you’re not going miss Snapped, baby?”  He is mocking me and laughing now.

For the uninitiated, Snapped is about women who, well, SNAP!  And off their husbands.  The typical “Snapped” episode starts with images of smiling couples clad in white dresses and tuxedos and ends with images of bullet casings, blood stained-sheets and a mug-shot. Sometimes it’s over money, sometimes it’s for a lover, sometimes it's over an affair (woman scorned), and sometimes it’s a combination of all of the above. 

Man, I’m going to miss those crazy bitches.

Recently, Jeff pointed out to me that “watching that shit right before you fall asleep every night can’t be good for you”.

While he’s no psychotherapist; and I have not been plotting his demise.  Nor have I been daydreaming about following in the footsteps of my favorite Housewives and wiping out my retirement for a Bentley and a Birkin bag...or pulling the weave from the head of any woman, friend or foe.  I must admit that his words stuck with me.  

I asked myself: 

Might more wholesome, more uplifting programming serve me better?  

Could a smidge of inspiration and/or good will toward men have a positive impact on my outlook in general?

We’ll find out next week, after the Masters at Augusta National…and a Snapped Marathon that runs from 12 p.m. to 1 a.m. on Sunday.

I sure hope that golf match goes into overtime.  I gotta go make some room on the DVR for some of my favorite girls!

More on Snapped:

Why would you do something like set up a scholarship for underserved kids
when you could be seen carrying this for a mere 150 Large ($150K)?

 More overpriced "bags":