TV in Every Room Not Quite Enough

We have three TVs in our house - 1.5 per person. One in every room except the kitchen and the bathroom.

As far as I can tell from a quick internet search, we are about average for U.S. households.

I've always watched a lot of television. When I was a kid, I plunked down after school for Petticoat Junction and Gilligan's Island, and after a break for dinner I sat through the prime time lineup, followed by the news at 10:00 and reruns of M*A*S*H before bed. In the summer, I would go outside and play, but only after the mid-day broadcast of Love American Style and before The Adams Family at 4:30. As a result, I've participated in a number of pop culture trivia contests over the years. I won a prize once for being able to sing all three verses to The Beverly Hillbillies.

In the mid 70s, I could recite the entire week's programming schedule for every channel. I was a walking TV Guide. To be fair, there were only four channels at the time. And none of them were on 24 hours.

Other than during dinner, my parents never limited TV time. There was one exception: my mother forbade me from watching Charlie's Angels. Of course it wasn't hard to disobey down in the basement with the volume turned low. I think Mom was worried that the sexy female detectives would inflame my youthful passions. If she'd only known my true nature, we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. The Six Million Dollar Man - now that inflamed me. And of course, Captain Kirk when he fought aliens with his shirt off. Other boys had angel Farrah Fawcett in a swim suit over their beds. I had a poster of speedo-clad male divers from Casa Bonita. Mom thought I was interested in diving. But I digress.

So apparently, now in the 21st century with hundreds and hundreds of channels, we need three TVs to keep up.

It's a wonder we ever do anything else.

It's better now than in the old days. You don't have to schedule your play time around the TV. You can watch when it's convenient. In addition to recording the traditional and cable network shows, you can also, courtesy of Netflix and cable on demand, watch multiple episodes of many series, past and present. Currently we are enjoying occasional marathons of Veep, Frasier, House, and Royal Pains.

Clyde and I watch TV together most of the time, as opposed to watching simultaneously in different rooms. This potentially changes when Clyde decides to watch an overly depressing or violent movie, or if I want to watch a sitcom that is beyond his tolerance for stupid.

While the television may be the center of attention when we sit in the living room, you can also find nearby: three laptops, an iPad, and two iPhones, all of which are capable of delivering YouTube, Netflix, and any number of other video streaming services. They are rarely all used at the same time, but usually the TV isn't the only screen running.

The laptops have the added advantage of being good platforms on which the cats may lounge.

There is plenty of entertainment available thanks to technology, but I think we need a TV in the kitchen. I can carry a laptop into the bathroom.

Living Together Signals a Change in Ways

Most of my adult life, I've only lived with cats. I last lived with another human nearly 20 years ago. Even back then when I was considerably younger, I was accused of being  too set in my ways to tolerate the day to day presence of another person in my home.

I had two roommates in college. College roommates are supposed to help you learn tolerance and compromise. All I learned was that I didn't want roommates.

Nevertheless, after a year of dating, Clyde has moved to my address. There is additional furniture in the house and an unusually full refrigerator.

What's happened to change my mind? For one thing, Clyde spends so much time at my house anyway that he might as well move in. My neighbors already assumed we lived together.

I do have some questions about cohabiting.

Forget about whether the toothpaste is squeezed from the middle or which way the toilet paper is loaded. What I need to know is, how do people who live together share a DVR? Is there room to record both persons' programs? What if one watches something but doesn't know whether the other has watched it - how does the former know whether to delete it?  Erasing Cosmos too soon could actually ruin the relationship.

Another issue which concerns me: step-parents are often resented by the children. I have the opposite problem with my non-human dependents. Far from viewing Clyde as an evil step-daddy, the cats prefer him to me. No, my feelings aren't hurt - just because I  have fed, kitty littered, paid vet bills for, given pills to, worried about, and generally taken care of them most of their lives. When Clyde and I are both sitting on the sofa, whose lap do you suppose they go to first? Not mine.

There are other adjustments to be made when the boyfriend moves in. For example, I can't put the remote on the other side of the bed like I used to. And it's more difficult to secretly watch Steam Room Stories (guys in towels) on YouTube. And even though Clyde is not judgmental, I feel guilty when he sees me eating junk food.

Of course there are advantages to having Clyde around.

I now eat fish occasionally, and it's not always disgusting.

Someone else did the laundry last weekend!

Also, Clyde has reorganized the kitchen closet. I can now locate the double-A batteries. And who knew I had two tape measures? Last time I looked, I couldn't even find one.

Clyde likes my cooking. He makes coffee early in the morning. He folds things that I just wad up. He even has an iron. I haven't had one in decades.

The other day, we went to Safeway instead of King Soopers. Who says I'm set in my ways?

I just have to figure out how to get my cats back.

I Wanted the Dowager Countess But All I Got Was Lady Mary

What's with all the personalized quizzes on Facebook? Along with cat videos and bitter political opining, announcements like the following proliferate: "I got Ginger, which castaway from Gilligan's Island are you?"

First, I'd like to say that these quizzes are a waste of time and serve no useful purpose. What kind of society values measuring yourself against shallow, fictional characters or pop culture icons? Wouldn't our leisure time be better spent studying the New York Times website or watching BBC News on TV?

Second, I'd like to say that I really enjoy taking those quizzes. It's interesting to compare myself with friends, although sometimes the outcomes are a bit puzzling. For example, I see myself as more of a Mary Ann.

If somehow you don't know what I"m talking about, just check out buzzfeed.com. They seem to be generating the most.

Here are some of the quizzes I've taken along with the results:

• What profession should you have? - I got writer. So far so good.
• Which President would you be? - Obama. Yeah!
• Which Star Trek character are you? - Captain Picard. Damn straight!
• Which Golden Girl are you? - Dorothy. There was general consensus on that one.
• Which period in history are you? - Elizabethan. Hmm. Ok. I did enjoy the Cate Blanchett movies.
• Which Downton Abbey character are you? - Naturally I was hoping for the Dowager Countess Violet, but I got Lady Mary instead. I guess that's ok. Just give Mary a few decades and she'll out dowage the Dowager.
• Which Big Bang Theory character are you? - The quiz said I was Penny. That was a real shock. Of course, she is from Nebraska. Perhaps that's it.
• Thank goodness for the "Friends" quiz. Of Rachel, Monica, Phoebe, Chandler, Joey, and Ross, I got Chandler. I'm surprised I didn't get Phoebe based on the Penny experience. Could I BE any more sarcastic?
• What city are you? - I apparently most closely matched Phoenix. Phoenix? Really? Not someplace cool like Portland? I was really jealous of my friends who got Portland. It's bad enough that I can't be my chosen home city of Denver. But Phoenix? I guess it could be worse. It could be Tulsa or anywhere in Texas.
• Which state should you live in? - I got Louisiana. LOUISIANA? I can't even begin to explain that one. I did get very drunk in New Orleans some 30 years ago, but generally I'm not into bayous, large clumps of moss hanging from tree branches, or washing machines on the front porch. Wait, that's Alabama. At least that's what I remember about it from driving through.

I guess they aren't necessarily scientifically sophisticated tests. But they are fun. Here are some quizzes I'd like to take but haven't - yet:

• Which member of the royal family are you? - I'd want to be the Queen, of course, but I'd probably get Prince Charles.
• Which flavor of ice cream would you be? - I'd probably get vanilla. I've actually been accused of being vanilla in the past. I wouldn't dare to hope for, say, rocky road.
• Which Charlie's Angel are you? - Jill. Hands down, Jill.
• What Old Testament character would you be? Probably something slightly obscure and scandalous, like Jezebel or a resident of Sodom.

Yep, it's a huge waste of time, but as entertainment goes, what else would you be doing? It's a nice break from all those kitten videos.

Commencement Speech Wisdom

'Tis graduation season. All around us, high schools and universities are turning students loose on the world. Graduates don robes and funny looking flat-topped hats called mortar boards. That monotonous Pomp and Circumstance music plays over and over again. Friends and families sit uncomfortably waiting for their own among hundreds to march up to the stage and receive a written symbol of their hard earned diploma or degree.

A highlight of the event is the commencement speech. In big universities, it's usually delivered by someone noteworthy, like the President of the United States or a late night talk show host. Regardless of the speaker, the speech optimistically discharges the graduates with inspirational stories and a few pearls of wisdom.

I've always wanted to give a commencement speech. What better way to share my long accumulated wisdom? But I'm not a President or a late night talk show host. In fact, I'm usually in bed by 8:30. But I suppose I could write the speech anyway, in case someone needs a last minute replacement speaker.

COMMENCEMENT SPEECH:

To the class of 2014, here is some advice based on my personal experience which I wish to pass along to you:

You are not your job. You are not your car. You are not your house. Your identity is in your ethics, how you treat people, who you love.

Your first job won't be your life-long work. What you end up doing won't be what you think it will be today. At Nebraska Wesleyan University, I prepared for a career in education and expected to be a school teacher for the rest of my life. But I've also worked as an administrative assistant, youth minister, video and audio editor, technical writer, camp director, book and movie reviewer, feature writer, and quality assurance manager. Now I design computer based training which is a task I never could have conceived back at NWU.

Get a Triple A membership. That's American Automobile Association. You won't be sorry when you lock your keys in the car on Thanksgiving day. This didn't happen to me. It was someone I know (ahem, my sister). And if you do lock your keys in the car, make sure the engine isn't running. Ok, that one happened to me.

Always pee before getting into an elevator. I didn't do that once and sure enough, the stupid thing got stuck between floors. The voice on the intercom asked if I could wait a few minutes. I said, "Not really." After the maintenance guys finally pried open the door, I quickly thanked them and ran down the hall.

Clean out the freezer. If the meat has been there more than a year, throw it out. Cleaning out a freezer is like finding a 50,000 year old mammoth in a glacier. It can be of historical interest, but mostly it's just gross. While you're at it, clean out the pantry too. That spice you bought during the Clinton administration isn't doing anyone any good.

Education doesn't end with your degree. Keep learning. Travel. Try new things. Experience other cultures. Read books. Associate with people who are different from you. Watch The News Hour in addition to TMZ. Continue your education so you don't stop thinking. Life will always be interesting if you're growing your mind.

If you're going to ride in the back seat of your boyfriend's jeep, make sure his mother isn't sitting in the front when you get car sick and vomit in that general direction. I don't think I need to say anything more than that.

Be nice to people who are paid to take care of you. I mean restaurant servers, hotel housekeepers, doormen/women. Say please and thank you. Acknowledge their humanity. Tip well. Not only will you get better service, you'll feel better because you won't be acting like an asshole.

Here's an old fashioned idea: successful people have a responsibility to give back to the community. Rich people have an obligation to help the poor. By virtue of your education you are rich, no matter how much money you have. Whether through politics, charity, or volunteering, don't just take all that life has to give you. Give something back.

So for what it's worth, there's my graduation advice. Good luck out in the world!

Tennis Elbow Not a Trivial Injury

Here's a nugget of wisdom I'd like to share with you: if it's been a while since you've been to the gym, don't jump into your old routine right away. You're out of shape. You'll hurt yourself. I know what I'm talking about.

Last summer, I moved into a high-maintenance condo-house which came with a lot of drama. I also met a new boyfriend, Clyde. Those two things kept me pretty busy.

So I temporarily stopped going to the gym. For about six months.

Meanwhile, Clyde and I discovered some common interests, including a fondness for premium ice cream.

As a result, I put on weight.

By New Years, I was decidedly fat. It was time to put some limits on the ice cream and start exercising again.

My first day back at the gym, I worked out on the elliptical and did some spinning. It felt great to be getting back in shape. After the cardio stuff, as was my habit in the past, I approached a weight lifting machine with gleeful abandon. I did ten, then twenty repetitions with just the right amount of sweat. I moved on to another machine. I was such a bad ass.

The next day, I couldn't move my arm.  A sharp pain near my funny bone constricted every movement. It felt as if I'd banged my elbow really hard on the counter.  I figured it would go away after a few days. Clyde, something of an expert in medical matters, speculated that I may have torn a tendon or cracked a bone. I berated myself for working out without properly warming up.

Long story short (too late, I know), after a couple months of pain and a visit to my doctor, an orthopedic surgeon diagnosed the injury as "tennis elbow."

No, I don't play tennis.

Tennis elbow sounds so trivial, like a medical condition only the rich have the luxury of suffering. But I'm telling you, it hurts like crazy. I can't lift heavy things. I have to use my other arm for raising the garage door. It's painful to shake hands.

Tennis elbow is caused by non-inflammatory, chronic activity in the tendon around the elbow.  There is no cure. Only time heals tennis elbow. Like a year. It can be treated with a brace strap thing. Many nights I take an ice pack to bed.

I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I'm just trying to raise awareness of the condition. Perhaps I could do a public service announcement or have some fundraisers featuring celebrities. Some sort of marathon, or perhaps a tennis match, is certainly in order. What color do you suppose the ribbon should be? What about a slogan? "Bend for the cure," comes to mind. Or, "T.E:  it's not just for tennis anymore."

In any case, I'll bare my suffering with that quiet dignity for which I am so well known. I think some ice cream would make me feel better.

Contemplating Life in Distant States

I love California. It truly has everything: obviously the coast and great weather, but also mountains, farms, and desert; big cities, small towns, beautiful countryside. On the coast, it's always spring with temperatures that range from cool to warm. There's nothing like the sound of pounding surf as you gaze from the pier up to the mountains; palm trees silhouetted against the hills as wave after wave crashes into the shore.

California truly has it all. Every time I visit, I ask myself why I don't live there.

So naturally, Clyde and I recently discussed moving to Minnesota.

Yep, you read correctly. Circumstances at Clyde's job were pointing to an opportunity in Minneapolis. When invited to visit, we went to check it out for ourselves.

Minnesota is no slouch as states go. It also has big cities, small towns, and beautiful countryside. While not particularly noted for mountains, there are lots of lakes and forests in which to experience nature. There's no ocean, but Lake Superior is certainly big and wavy.

The only problem with Minnesota really is just that it's so terribly freaking cold. Everyone we met seemed shell shocked by this past winter's extremely low temperatures. I've never seen an entire state so weary of snow. Even a local TV meteorologist, typically good natured and upbeat, humorlessly cursed the few inches that had fallen as we arrived. With exasperation, he described how the snow had all melted, only to reappear. He couldn't guarantee that it wouldn't happen again before spring finally asserted itself.

I remember living in eastern Nebraska when the snow stayed on the ground all winter and it never warmed up and you could go for weeks without seeing the sun. Ice on the road never melted, it just wore out if you were lucky. It can only be colder in states further north.

I've been to Minnesota many times. I like Minneapolis very much. It features the advantages of a fine city, including the arts and liberal minded people. The airport is conveniently located in town (unlike some other airports I could name ... Denver International) with light rail connecting the terminals to downtown. I already have friends there. I could live there.

Oh, and Saint Paul is very nice too.

I'm sure Saint Paul always appreciates being mentioned as a casual afterthought.

But in the end, the moon and stars realigned with the juxtapositions of work and home. It looks like we're staying put for the time being.

At least I am.

Clyde actually will be relocating soon. He'll be moving in with me and the cats.

Important Issues of the Day: Celebrity Guest Appearances

I looked forward all day to booting up my DVR to watch the sitcom New Girl. I carefully arranged dinner on the coffee table, situated the remotes for maximum accessibility, elbowed the cats away from my plate, and prepared to relax with a chuckle at lead Zooey Deschanel and a great ensemble cast including a bunch of really cute guys. My hopes for a pleasant evening were dashed when I realized that it was a rerun of the episode where they all go to Prince's house.

I didn't want to sit through that one the first time, let alone as a rerun.

I know it's just a sitcom, but do you really expect me to believe a group of socially challenged, underemployed young people who can barely afford to cohabit in their LA loft actually get invited to a party thrown by a 1980s pop legend? Do people Zooey's age even know who Prince is? What favors were called in so he could promote himself on this popular show?

I'm usually pretty annoyed when celebrities make appearances as themselves on my favorite shows. It's unrealistic. Implausible. It disrupts ongoing plot elements. And if I don't like the celebrity, it bugs me even more. Prince, as it happens, has always really irritated me. Between the screeching and the hair I've always had a kind of stomach churning reaction to the guy.

But it's not just Prince. It's any self-promoting celebrity appearing on fictional television.

You may have to have been alive in the 1970s to remember the worst, or best, examples of celebrity aggrandizement on a sitcom. On Lucille Ball's TV sitcom, Here's Lucy, there was a different special guest star every week. I would get so irritated at Lucy gushing and fawning over the celebs who almost always played themselves. It was the same plot over and over. Lucy would act like she'd never met a famous person before when in fact, all she ever did was to meet them. She was, herself, bigger than most of them anyway.

To me, Here's Lucy reeked of lazy TV writing. But I was only in grade school at the time so what did I know?

Could I BE any gayer? I'm trashing a TV show that's been off the air for 40 years. But I never missed an episode.

There is one guest star who plays himself on a sitcom and pulls it off: Will Wheaton, who's acting career peaked when he was a teenager playing Wesley Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation, has a recurring role on The Big Bang Theory. Wheaton plays himself with deprecation and humor.

Hot in Cleveland is a funny show where they also have a lot of celebrity guest stars. Joan Rivers, Mary Tyler Moore, Carol Burnett, the guy from Modern Family, that other guy from that one show ... But on HIC, the celebrities play characters, not themselves. It's highly entertaining to see familiar faces in new roles, entertaining instead of just self-promoting.

Maybe Will Wheaton's career hasn't peaked after all. Big Bang is one of the most popular shows on television. And Carol Burnett looked great on Hot in Cleveland. Mary Tyler Moore, however, didn't look so good.