DTV Has Made Me an Addict for PBS
Prior to the magic glowing box of TV greatness, I could only sort-of, occasionally, if the weather was right, the wind was blowing in a clockwise swirl, and I was wearing my tin foil hat and silver underwear with the extra boning in the bra, get in a fuzzy black and white Miss Marple.
Now the magic glowy box of TV greatness (henceforth to be known as Fred) beams me 3 channels of PBS, including one in Spanish. 2 hours of Antiques Roadshow, 2 hours of Make ‘em Laugh, 2 hours of Miss Marple, and now some BBC show with three old men with funny accents. My mind is reeling with questions: What did I do before PBS? How did I survive without Fred for so long? What does PBS broadcast after midnight? (I’m picturing wholesome, but somewhat lewd, programs, like Nova’s The Journey of the Sperm or something) Why does Fred want me to have 3 channels showing the current weather? Why are these three old British men wearing coolers on their feet like snowshoes?!
I’ve discovered the public broadcasting version of fire. Life may never be the same.
HA! the old men are trying to ski down a green hill on the cooler lids. Oh god this is great. OH PINK SPANDEX AND WHITE TIGHTS! JOY!
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