I was watching a movie last night, for lack of anything
better to do, and I realized why I rarely even turn on the television...other
than for sporting events and weather reports. Why anything on any cable
station, in this case CMT, gets on my last nerve.
First of all it’s because of what movie I was watching, which
was a really lame one. No, I’m not going to mention the name. Ok, it was
Twister. Every time it’s been on, I’ve watched it. Some kind of strange
obsession with Bill Paxton that I really don’t understand. He’s going bald and
he can’t act. He’s not a mega star or all that good looking. But he has a voice
that kinda haunts me. Gruff, a little hoarse. A lot sexy, especially when he
speaks softly.
And because I was annoyed that I was watching Twister again,
I started looking for a reason to be further annoyed and perhaps justify…something?
And I found it, which has been my reason for not watching television much in
the first place. The commercials. And being annoyed with the commercials made
me further obsessed. So I stopped paying attention to the movie, which I pretty
much know every word, every nuance of anyway. And I found out this…
How annoyed was I? For every seven minutes of movie time,
there were eight minutes of commercials. Twenty. Twenty commercials in a row
each break. Yes, I started timing and then counting them. In between, I was
putting the finishing touches on my bucket list so it wasn’t a totally wasted
evening.
After a while, the timing and counting got a little boring
(I hear you asking, ya think?). So I began writing down the commercials in each
segment of eight minutes. I found out that they were playing three loops of
twenty. After a while, I quit even pretending to watch the movie. After all, I’ve
seen it before.
But even writing down the commercials gets a little boring
(I saw you roll your eyes). So I began timing each one. They were mostly 30
second spots but you got the gist that car commercials are more important than
those for Macy’s holiday sales and Geico ads were even more important than the
ones for cars. I guess to even own a car, you need insurance so that makes
sense. But the most important, it seems, is a local (Louisiana, I mean) rehab
center where a former New Orleans Saints football player’s father went to dry
out. Go figure.
The worst part of the whole thing, the whole wasted evening,
was that it didn’t stop when I turned off the TV. This blog was running through
my head half the night so I didn’t sleep much. Hardly at all, in fact. Which
made me grumpy most of the day and gave me a headache as well.
And I’m blaming it all on Bill Paxton.
