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Take a Ride (down Memory Lane) With Me



   I love to watch a good television train wreck. I don’t mean a real, live Northeastern Railroad smash up. I’m talking about Nancy Grace, nostrils flared in indignation, interviewing pretty much anybody. I like how she asks the dirty questions we all want to ask but can’t. I like how she chokes up every now and then. I like how she clearly doesn’t care that she’s got really bad hair. I like that handcuff necklace she wears in the CNN promos. She’s kind of badass.
   And I love watching The Little Couple. You all know how much I enjoy that one. I find myself tearing up all the time when it’s on. Sometimes they’re tears of joy because I’m so damn happy they adopted those two little babies. And God knows I can’t believe all the crap they have to go through to live a happy life. Enough already.
   Then there’s my infatuation with the Duggars. It’s like I don’t want to watch them purely on principle. I don’t agree with their views on just about everything and yet, I see them all standing there in their khaki pants and long jean skirts and Michelle says, “and I delivered every one!” and I’m captivated. Amazing. Can you imagine the stretch marks? I have to wonder if those kids don’t turn on each other when the cameras are off, a little make-up to cover the black eyes.
   I’ve been obsessed with HGTV for years, long before Martha’s Vineyard was chosen for the dream home. I watch it way too much. I love to watch the women when they say, “I love the tray ceiling and the spa bathroom and the hardwoods and the stainless steel, but these countertops aren’t granite. Why did you show us this house when you know it doesn’t have our must-haves?”
   I love to watch the loosely described television journalists these days while they bait the people they interview, trying desperately to get a sound bite to carry over into the next day.
    Lately I’ve been watching Nellyville. There’s the St. Louis connection, but more than that, he’s raising his own kids and his sister’s kids since she died of cancer. And then there’s his scholarships and charity work. I know he’s got some raunchy videos, but I’ve seen where he came from and that’s something. And he’s pretty funny sometimes. I'm not going to apologize.
   Remember when we wanted to watch I Dream of Jeannie and Laugh-In and our parents insisted on Gunsmoke? That used to really piss me off. And I had to turn the sound practically off when I was in high school and wanted to watch Monty Python. My dad wasn’t a fan of the British television shows, didn’t trust them.
   “Times have changed” doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m still not over Robby Benson and do you remember the color of Bobby Sherman’s eyes? Oh, I do.
I miss those days. As I write this, people are shouting on CNN where Dr. Drew has clearly lost control of the show. Thank God in my mind, I’m still trying to master walking while I do the funky chicken. 



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