A Fundamental Lapse In Judgement, Perhaps?

When I started this blog, I decided that I wasn’t going to write about politics. That does not mean that I am not interested in politics (though, mostly, I’m not) because this year’s political scene is definitely interesting.

It’s so interesting, in fact, that Mr. Handsome and I have allowed the devil-in-a-box to enter our home.

In our twelve years of marriage we have never had a TV. Ever. In my entire life, I have never had a TV. Never. I hate the thing. Passionately.

But, I do like movies, the occasional DVD (we subscribe to Netflix—two DVDs a month for $5.95—and if you decide to subscribe after reading this post, please note our names so that we can get whatever bonus they are offering at the time) or video. For years, we would borrow Matt and Crystal’s TV/video combo thingy when we needed to veg. But then we moved to the country and didn’t have easy access to anything, so we borrowed (kind of permanently, but shhh, don’t tell the kids) an old TV monitor/video player from Matt and Monica (Matt did not get remarried—they are different Matts).

At least I thought it was just a monitor.

On the night of the first debate, Mr. Handsome called me up to our bedroom, and lo and behold, there he was, just standing there in the buff… (I’m kidding! Though that sometimes is the case. Of course.)

Lemme try again: Lo and behold, there he was standing beside the old TV monitor and on the TV were the fuzzy faces of McCain and Obama. What??? Here he had rigged the thing up with cords—one was running up the side of the window and draped over the curtain rod. I don’t know what he did; all I know is it was electrical and ugly and messy. It wasn’t the best connection, and sometimes the images dissolved and the buzzing sound overtook, but we learned that if Mr. Handsome sat next to it, leaning his body just so with his hand over the top of the TV (in a perverse sort of blessing), the picture came through satisfactorily.

Soon we heard a scuffling noise outside our bedroom door. I tiptoed over, opened the door, and there were Miss Becca Boo and Yo-Yo Boy crouched down, trying to listen under the door. So I invited them in. Miss Becca Boo said, “What movie are you watching?”

Mr. Handsome shushed her and said emphatically, “It’s not a movie. It’s history.”

“Oh,” she said, and snuggled down to watch.

Since that night, Mr. Handsome and I have watched the following two debates. When we’re watching, a bowl of popcorn between us, it seems just like a movie, but then afterwards the ads come on (some of which I can not follow and do not understand) and all the fast-talking reporters and then I remember that it’s a TV we’re watching and I get a yucky, tired feeling and we turn it off and go to bed.

So, can I still say that I’ve never owned a TV? Have I crossed The Line?

And in regards to politics, I’m not going to tell you who we’re rooting for. (The yard sign, our first ever, isn’t up yet, and even if it were, you couldn’t see it, right?) Can you guess?

Ps. I’ll reveal the answer if I get twenty (20!) guesses. If not, I’m keepin’ mum.