Sunday, February 21, 2010

Tv and banana sandwiches

As I sit here at 3 am, eating a slab of rye with Jif and sliced bananas, listening to Pancho and Lefty (by Willie Nelson for you young'uns), I am reflecting on what an awesome day it was today - or technically yesterday- and my earliest memory of eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
(I have to pause here in sheer bliss now because Conway Twitty and TightFittinJeans just came on)
Ok I'm back. That was freakin awesome. And if you don't appreciate Conway, you can leave my blog right now. I mean it - GET THE HELL OUT. The man may have been the homliest white man in a fro, but I would have thrown my underwear at his head if I had the chance. It still isn't clear to me why this was an accepted practice at concerts back in the day, and it is one I have always scorned from my mother's era, but I would have definitely made an exception for Conway. The man's voice can turn me into a melted puddle of butter.
But back to bananas and Jif. Because choosier moms choose Jif. Don't ask me why. I do what the commercials tell me to. That's what they're there for right? To make the hard decisions easy for us so we can concentrate more on trying to figure out which Desperate Housewife will be the next one to go off her meds and knife someone.
Do you realize how much of what you do is directly or indirectly influenced by what you watch on tv? Actually its not what you watch, its watching it in general. For instance, my latest obsession, or shall I say fantasy, of stabbing certain tv characters in the neck can be entirely blamed on the drivel we like to call reality tv.
Some might say maybe I should stop watching it, and to them I say nonsense. Watching someone else's train wreck may just be what is keeping me off Prozac, and fantasizing about stabbing Kris Jenner just may be what has kept me from setting fire to a meth whore's house after rescuing her 7 children who think all their mama's teeth fell out from eating too much candy. Not that I have ever thought about doing that.
Watching tv is therapeutic, I think. Kind of like eating banana and peanut butter sandwiches. I remember eating one as a kid, and my mother telling me that it was Elvis' favorite sandwich. Really? I thought, then Elvis can't be all that bad. (Daddy was an old-fashioned preacher who said Elvis was possessed of the Devil). I was beginning to realize all is not as it seems.
Coincidentally, my eight year old daughter is a huge Elvis fan. Do I tell her Elvis was possessed of the Devil? No. I tell her Miley Cyrus is.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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