Friday, September 23, 2005

and now for something COMPLETELY different...

at dinner last night, our fam was talking about television, and our strange historical love affair with the box that has sometimes--and sometimes not--occupied our house.
Story #1: My mother, when she was my age, was hooked on DALLAS, with all the drama and big hair. She told us this after I confessed my embarrassing addiction to THE O.C. (love, LOVE, LOVE the O.C., cringe, but it's true). My parents, who were very poor, and had just had a baby (me), had no T.V. at the time because the one they owned had broken. My mother made my dad walk down the street and borrow a television from an old lady because she needed to see the season premiere of DALLAS.
Story #2: Skip ahead to me at 17, in the midst of an AP Chemistry exam complete with blue book. I am attempting to squeeze from my brain a number of chemical equations forever lost in the mire, and all I can come up with is a song, which I am obsessively and absentmindedly humming to myself when the teacher walks by and says, "Did you recently see a re-run of DALLAS?" "No," I reply. I don't know if I've ever seen that show, why do you ask?? "Because, you're humming the theme song."
I tell my parents this at dinner and my mother says it must have been burned into my subconscious in the womb. scary.
Story #3: While our dad is making fun of our mom for needing the TV to watch Dallas, the kids quickly remind him of the time the family experimented with conservative values and put the TV in the garage. One Sunday afternoon, we couldn't find him until someone opened up the garage and found him huddled in a corner, crunched up next to an outlet with the TV, a Pepsi and a pizza, watching football. He'll never live that one down. The TV was reinstalled in our living room the next day.

who shot JR, anyway? at


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