Carol:
Lighten Up!
I love the word “amuse- bouche.” In case you aren’t a fan of Top Sous-Chef, an amuse-bouche is a one-bite appetizer that kind of teases the taste buds into action. Translated from the French, it means “amuse the mouth.” If you watched The Next Cast-Iron Superstars, you’d know it is often a small, off-the-menu “welcome gift” from the chef at high-end restaurants. In my circle of friends, on the rare occasions when we go to a fancy restaurant, the arrival of an amuse-bouche first evokes suspicion (“I didn’t order this, how much is it going to cost?”) then relief (“It’s free—good deal!).I really enjoy watching those cable TV “last one standing” reality shows on the Home and Gardenia Channel or Bravissimo. Whether it’s dueling designers or competitive cook-offs, I record them all -- for delayed gratification, to give myself a little amuse-bouche for the eye and brain when Milo and I are the only ones home or the first ones awake. They are a guilty pleasure, light entertainment. I actually prefer to watch them alone—not just the food and design competitions but shows like Dancing with the Stars on Stilts or So You Think You Can Juggle.
I never watch reality shows live. I have my own techniques for fast-forwarding through the episodes. We have satellite HDTV (another guilty pleasure), so I have four options for fast-forwarding. Speed #1 is for stuff that’s a little boring. I can still see everything that’s going on, but it just looks peppier …and funnier, like a 1920’s silent movie. Speed #1 is also handy to get through the first weeks of competition before the dead-bang loser, born with two left hands, second-rate minor political hack gets kicked off the show. Speed #2 is for getting through the small-talk fluff in between the end of the dance (or the bake-off or the room make-over) and the announcement of the scores. Speed #3 is for getting through the commercials. Speed #4 is for those occasions when I need to start back at the beginning and fast fast fast forward to where I was when I fell asleep. That happens a lot.
Let me clarify that I do not watch all reality shows. I have very clear limits when it comes to wasting my time. My competition shows have to be NICE --nothing cut-throat or humiliating, which lets out America’s Next Top Idle Rich and Survival of the Sickest: South Bronx. If the guys on Extreme Challenge: Bon Voyage Cake start throwing frosting, I grab the remote and hit Speed #2. At the end of Couture Island Cincinnati when the celebrity judge gets ready to announce “Pack your pinking shears and go,” I keep my hand on the remote so that I can hit “delete” just as the biggest fashion flop for the week starts to weep and moan.
The world is a pretty serious place, full of tragedy, ignorance and crime. Am I just using television to escape from reality? Or, is harmless amusement a necessity, a counter-balance to the weightier issues of the day? I say, YES, such little amuse-bouche entertainments are important. I need a calorie-free taste of Pound Cake Cook-Off or a little adrenaline-rush of Roller-Derby Runway so that I can handle the stress or emotions of …. CSI: North Dakota, NCIS: Navajo Nation, Law and Order: Bermuda Triangle and Dancing with the Human Target.
Let me clarify that I do not watch all reality shows. I have very clear limits when it comes to wasting my time. My competition shows have to be NICE --nothing cut-throat or humiliating, which lets out America’s Next Top Idle Rich and Survival of the Sickest: South Bronx. If the guys on Extreme Challenge: Bon Voyage Cake start throwing frosting, I grab the remote and hit Speed #2. At the end of Couture Island Cincinnati when the celebrity judge gets ready to announce “Pack your pinking shears and go,” I keep my hand on the remote so that I can hit “delete” just as the biggest fashion flop for the week starts to weep and moan.
The world is a pretty serious place, full of tragedy, ignorance and crime. Am I just using television to escape from reality? Or, is harmless amusement a necessity, a counter-balance to the weightier issues of the day? I say, YES, such little amuse-bouche entertainments are important. I need a calorie-free taste of Pound Cake Cook-Off or a little adrenaline-rush of Roller-Derby Runway so that I can handle the stress or emotions of …. CSI: North Dakota, NCIS: Navajo Nation, Law and Order: Bermuda Triangle and Dancing with the Human Target.
Megan:
A Dirty Protest
I thought I had a sick sense of humor until I started working in the prison. Everyone knows there are certain professions in which one has to develop “gallows humor” in order to cope with the pressure and stress of the environment. Law enforcement and corrections are two, as well as the military. After a few months in the prison, my capacity for finding humor in awful situations expanded to the point where I was worried about myself.
Some prison anecdotes would probably suit this topic, but I’m having a hard time thinking of any at the moment. The further I get from that time, the harder it is for me to see the funny side – maybe because I no longer need the humor to get through the day. Here’s an excerpt from an email I got recently from someone I used to work with:
“hello u shite head, hows things. jail is much the same, a few punch ups, a throat slashed, normal stuff.”
And, he’s not being funny there (except in the greeting). That is normal. But it’s not my normal anymore. Although my life is boring by comparison, it is a relief not to have to worry about finding heroin in library books or weapons hidden in the shelves or contamination from a dirty protest…
Actually, I still deal with dirty protests.
I think I’ve finally broken the dog of his habit of peeing on my bed. Milo has had a love/hate relationship with my bed for a long time (or maybe it’s the other way around). When we first got the dog, I let him sleep on the bed with me. It was a new bed. I had suggested to the parents that, at 25, maybe I was too old to sleep on a twin bed. So, they got me a queen size , over stuffed mattress which seemed bigger than anything I’d ever seen before. I have to jump to get in the bed. But almost immediately after we got the dog and the bed, I moved back to England again and Milo had my room, and the bed, to himself for 4 years.
When I moved back this summer, I discovered that I had developed an allergy to the dog. Also that he took up too much space on the bed. And when he urgently needed to look out the window, he stepped or even sometimes sat on my face. That’s just not a good way to wake up. So just after I wrote our first entry on this website, I evicted him from my room. And he soon began his guerrilla attacks.
For a month or so, he was hitting my bed two or three times a week. My father suggested putting him down, but Milo is pretty sweet otherwise and anyway, he belongs to Mom. I reminded myself how much I love sleeping on clean sheets, and that because of Milo, I was getting that experience more often, but still … I worried for the mattress. And the carpet. So, I emptied a bottle of Febreeze and started closing my door.
I’m hoping we can come to a compromise. I don’t like restricting his access, as there are already many places in the house he is not allowed. I’ve gradually let him back in under supervision. We haven’t had an incident in about two weeks, so I’m starting to relax a little bit. As I write this, I can see him lying at the top of the bed, his head resting on the window sill, surveying his kingdom and waiting for Mom to come home.
Actually, I still deal with dirty protests.
I think I’ve finally broken the dog of his habit of peeing on my bed. Milo has had a love/hate relationship with my bed for a long time (or maybe it’s the other way around). When we first got the dog, I let him sleep on the bed with me. It was a new bed. I had suggested to the parents that, at 25, maybe I was too old to sleep on a twin bed. So, they got me a queen size , over stuffed mattress which seemed bigger than anything I’d ever seen before. I have to jump to get in the bed. But almost immediately after we got the dog and the bed, I moved back to England again and Milo had my room, and the bed, to himself for 4 years.
When I moved back this summer, I discovered that I had developed an allergy to the dog. Also that he took up too much space on the bed. And when he urgently needed to look out the window, he stepped or even sometimes sat on my face. That’s just not a good way to wake up. So just after I wrote our first entry on this website, I evicted him from my room. And he soon began his guerrilla attacks.
For a month or so, he was hitting my bed two or three times a week. My father suggested putting him down, but Milo is pretty sweet otherwise and anyway, he belongs to Mom. I reminded myself how much I love sleeping on clean sheets, and that because of Milo, I was getting that experience more often, but still … I worried for the mattress. And the carpet. So, I emptied a bottle of Febreeze and started closing my door.
I’m hoping we can come to a compromise. I don’t like restricting his access, as there are already many places in the house he is not allowed. I’ve gradually let him back in under supervision. We haven’t had an incident in about two weeks, so I’m starting to relax a little bit. As I write this, I can see him lying at the top of the bed, his head resting on the window sill, surveying his kingdom and waiting for Mom to come home.
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