Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Mouse That Wasn't


I know the sound of a scurrying mouse. I've listened to them run in the walls of the family farm house, and I used to watch one come out at night and steal food, while living in my one room New York apartment. It's winter time in Kansas, and we live in an old house, built in 1890. There are plenty of tiny crevices that a mouse could pancake himself into, searching for a little warmth. Luckily, we haven't had any mice (hobo squirrels is a story for another day), until last week.

"What's that noise? Do you hear it?"

"No."

"It sounds like a mouse. In the entertainment center."

James stood listening, hearing the faint scuttling of something moving around inside one of the drawers. He jumped up on the couch. We both listened.

"How did it even get in there?"

"Walked. It probably walked."

"Bobo, are you just going to sit there?" Bobo the cat sat on the couch, completely uninterested.

"Let me get some tools," James said, heading towards the laundry room.

He quickly returned with a broom, a cardboard box, a flashlight, and some Chex Mix. He leaned over and barely opened the drawer, shining the flashlight into the dark space.

"I think I see something!" I screamed. He slammed the drawer shut.

We regrouped and tried again, slowly opening the drawer. We could both hear the noise, but couldn't see anything.

"He must be behind the drawer."

At this point I was ready to just let him live there so that I could get back to my episode of Strange Addictions.

"You know the noise almost sounds mechanical. It's repetitive."

James used the broom to reach into the drawer and poke the DVD player. Then he summoned up his courage and stuck his hand into the drawer and turned the DVD player off. The noise stopped.

The natives congratulated themselves on their bravery and power of deduction. Chex Mix was consumed.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Dumbed Down Downton

A dumbwaiter, rather fitting. 

Watching our first episode of Downton Abbey didn't go as planned. It wasn't the show's fault, it was ours. My suggestion for beginning a new series is to unplug, and pay attention. It's fine to bring a bowl of popcorn,  interspersed with Peanut M&Ms, to the couch, but don't bring your laptop, otherwise this happens:

"What year did the Titanic sink?"

"Let me Google it."

2 minutes later
"When did women get the right to vote? I bet it was 1920. Do you want to bet? I'll bet you five cents."

"The internet says it was 1920. But I never agreed to a bet."

5 minutes later
"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

5 minutes later

"How many house fires do you think are caused by people on Ambien?"

"I don't care. Shut up."

2 minutes later

"Let me see the laptop."

"Why?"

"I'm going to read the first episode synopsis, just so I can catch up."



P.S. I've since watched all the episodes available on Netflix and I was able to follow the plot without any help from the internet.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Roku Addiction

We got rid of our cable a few months ago. It was too expensive and we really only watched a few channels. We opted for a Roku instead, allowing us to stream Netflix and more. This was the beginning of the end for me. While I used to casually watch whatever was on, usually working on another project as well, I am now planting myself in front of the TV with the purpose of watching 5-6 episodes of a show in one sitting.

It started with Breaking Bad. We watched 2-3 episodes a night until we ran out.

Next, it was Portlandia. All 17 episodes watched within a few days.

Then I decided to give up all sense of a life outside of TV by accepting the challenge to watch all 123 episodes of 30 Rock. The challenge was made by me and there was no prize upon completion.

Last night I watched episode 123 of 30 Rock. I spent over 45 hours watching 30 Rock.

I'm done. I'm going to resume my normal life, where I do other activities besides watching television.

Until tonight, when I start watching Downton Abbey.