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October 20, 2004

DVR me, ASAP

Lani, writing from the glamorous closet...

It's official. I have arrived. On a Greyhound, but still.

(The bus, not the dog.)

Anyway, not one but two people, completely by coincidence, blogged about forging my signature on my books today. I'm not sure what it means, but I must say the odd convergence seems like a sign of portent. An omen, if you will. Which, it occurs to me, might not a good thing. I mean, a) the movie was not just regular bad but multiple a baaaaaaaad, and b) kids named Damien still freak me out, but, you know... any port in an apocalypse.

And I'll use that obscure TV quote to high-jump into my big news of the week.

I have digital cable.

With a DVR.

::: insert high pitched giggle here :::

Turns out, my Insane Local Cable Provider had a deal wherein the same money I currently pay for my cable modem (to said ILCP) and for my phone (to non-ILCP company, which apparently irks ILCP) gets me modem, phone (with unlimited long distance), and digital cable if I just stop divvying the cash and push it all across the table to ILCP. Of course, there are small echoes in my mind about evil conglomerates with Mr. Burns-style CEOs rubbing their hands together and saying "Exxxxxxcellent" as they take over the world one itty bitty soul at a time, but...

Dude. I got a DVR.

For those of you who don't know what a DVR is, it stands for Digital Video Recorder, which is basically a generic TiVo.

For those who don't know what TiVo is and who haven't been drooling over it for the last few years... well, it is to the TV geek what eating Haagen Dazs while having sex on silk sheets imported direct from silk sheet heaven would be to a normal person.

In a word: Nirvana.

Now, I used to be able to watch television like a normal person. A show I wanted to watch would come on, and I would sit down and watch it. Pretty simple life, and it worked for me.

Then... I had children.

Suddenly, there wasn't an ice cube's chance in hell I'd get an entire half-hour (shudder the thought of a full hour) to watch my shows without being interrupted for any number of petty requests ("Mom, I'm hungry!" "Mom, my toy/computer/body part is broken!" "Honey, I want sex!") from various family members, none of whom can seem to function without me for any prolonged period of time. And, as nice as VCRs are, there was no way I could organize the programming and the remembering to turn the power off and the swapping of tapes and the yadda yadda yadda of it all. So, TV sort of died for me, which was not a painless death. I love TV. Always have, always will. It was with a heavy heart that I chose my family over Scrubs, I tell you that.

Now, my world has changed. Yesterday, I flipped through an onscreen menu and chose my programs. Today, my lovely DVR recorded Dora the Explorer for the kidlets, an Angel re-run I haven't seen yet, West Wing and Lost. I've got Desperate Housewives on tap next, as I hear it's great, but I haven't been able to watch it as it doesn't air at eleven o'clock at night, the time things start slowing down at Casa Rich.

Except now... it does. It airs whenever I want it to.

I may never leave the house again. Which means I'm gonna have to find someone to sign all those books for me. Volunteers?

Posted by Lani at 11:48 PM | Comments (2)

Comments

Posted by: Va Dreamer at October 21, 2004 7:11 AM

Posted by: Linda Sherwood at October 21, 2004 8:24 AM