Secrets, Secrets....

So, I can’t go to sleep...and as I sit here in the glow of the most beautiful Christmas tree ever…(that coincidently, because of tradition, will not come down until at least January 15th…so if you haven’t checked it out, you should, its hot) I have something to admit. This has been a well-kept secret, known to only a few precious souls who also have dabbled in such amazingness. They shall remain nameless, because it is their secret to keep or, if they are brave enough, to tell. But in the spirit of the approaching new year I feel like I need to get this off my chest. Okay here it goes……

I’m in love with PBS. Yes, Public Broadcasting System. I am truly, unashamedly, madly, in love with it. Call me old. Call me lame. Whatever. I can take it. I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no other channel on television that gives me such delight and satisfaction than the channel that is PBS. Sometimes I like to call it the public biased system…because they love to slip in their little political correctness slant. I tend not to watch those shows anyway. But there are two shows in particular that I would be fine with if they were on every day of the week.

The Antique Roadshow: In my personal opinion I think the roadshow was the first reality show. Before the over-saturation of trashy reality shows, there was the roadshow. Where you’d see real people bring in their real treasures or real junk to real appraisers who gives them a two-minute summary on what exactly it is. And in the final moments of the segment they either deliver them a tragic blow; that their aunts, grandmothers, third cousins, little wooden horse was actually a replica made by a knockoff, and it is only good for kindling a fire. OR, the unsuspecting grandfather figure that brings in a side table that is actually a missing piece of George Washington’s Mount Vernon Estate…and it’s a happy day for grandfather – or Mr. Moneybags, as he’ll be referred to for the rest of his life.

Austin City Limits: This is actually my muse for this entry. I couldn’t get to sleep. So I’m up folding laundry and a flip through channels (livin’ the dream, I know) when I come across Austin City Limits. And although, I didn’t know who the artist was, I stopped and listened. Come to find out in the end, it was Wilco. I had heard about them…but never really listened, but liked what I heard. Anyway, when I try to dissect what is so alluring about said show, I think it’s a little of all of the following: its void of intermission, it doesn’t have any of that awkward “in between songs time filler conversation”. I can go to the concert curled up in a blanket while Chris Martin rocks out to “Clocks”. But I won’t get annoyed because there is a middle aged intoxicated lady standing in my line of view, swaying back in forth out of rhythm. I won’t have that “I immediately need to take a shower because that concert venue might have just given me a disease” feeling, I don’t have to wait in line, and I don’t have to pay $6 for a bottle of water and $78 for a ticket.

Not to mention the countless documentaries I’ve watched. That have taught me the history behind the WW2 or given me a glimpse of what it looks like for families who have children who suffer with leukemia. Regardless of what show I watch, I always walk away feeling a little more cultured…a little more well-rounded and a little more sophisticated.

Thank you PBS for being free and being good.

Random.

So this morning, I woke up with the following Hall & Oates lyrics running through my mind:

Oh here she comes
Watch out boy shell chew you up
Oh here she comes
Shes a maneater
Oh here she comes
Watch out boy shell chew you up
Oh here she comes
Shes a maneater

It took almost two consecutive hours of Christmas Song Quick Mix from Pandora to kill that beast. Anyway, I know I owe a post for what was the whole month of November. Hopefully, that will happen in the next few days.