A welcome side effect of not having cable TV is that I'm required to venture out for my weekly fix of American Idol and Biggest Loser. These days on Tuesday and Wednesday nights I can be found rendezvousing with my Grandpa in West Seattle. This 100% true-blue Italian is so very 'today'. He has an iPhone, he emails, chats on Messenger, surfs YouTube, and even follows my blog. He also shares my enthusiasm for vacuous reality TV programming. Honestly he's more hip than most 30-somethings I know, including yours truly. I'd tell you how old he is but like I said he follows my blog and I could get busted for that. I'll give you a hint though: 1926. Whoops. Did I just say that?
Our weekly AI huddle typically kicks off with me springing through the door around 7:45pm in time to raid the fridge for leftovers. My Grandpa's a cooking savant and generally has something lurking around that will thwart any success I've had at healthy eating that day. Last week it was Tomato & Feta Pork Chops. This week it was Texas Hash. He doesn't know it yet but I'm putting together my menu request for next week. I'm moving soon and feel completely justified in being as pushy as necessary in order to get all my favorite meals in before I leave. Next season I'll be back to microwave popcorn.
The mere watching of American Idol with Grandpa is entertainment enough all on its own. His running diatribe about the contestants is a constant source of amusement for me. Maybe it's that he's cheeky enough to say what I'm generally thinking but he has me chuckling throughout most of the show. I forget which contestant last week received this critique, "Now I don't like that short skirt with those long legs. Looks to me like she's wearing a loin cloth." With commentary like that, it really doesn't matter what you're watching. It's just darn funny. There was no 'golden ticket' tonight for poor Brad Paisley either. "What's this, I don't like him. He should be voted off. You ain't good. Hmum. Bring on Carrie Underwood."
Our weekly AI huddle typically kicks off with me springing through the door around 7:45pm in time to raid the fridge for leftovers. My Grandpa's a cooking savant and generally has something lurking around that will thwart any success I've had at healthy eating that day. Last week it was Tomato & Feta Pork Chops. This week it was Texas Hash. He doesn't know it yet but I'm putting together my menu request for next week. I'm moving soon and feel completely justified in being as pushy as necessary in order to get all my favorite meals in before I leave. Next season I'll be back to microwave popcorn.
The mere watching of American Idol with Grandpa is entertainment enough all on its own. His running diatribe about the contestants is a constant source of amusement for me. Maybe it's that he's cheeky enough to say what I'm generally thinking but he has me chuckling throughout most of the show. I forget which contestant last week received this critique, "Now I don't like that short skirt with those long legs. Looks to me like she's wearing a loin cloth." With commentary like that, it really doesn't matter what you're watching. It's just darn funny. There was no 'golden ticket' tonight for poor Brad Paisley either. "What's this, I don't like him. He should be voted off. You ain't good. Hmum. Bring on Carrie Underwood."
Speaking of being voted off, it occurs to me that this post could get me voted right out of my weekly Idol venue. I did say he's a really good cook, right? I mean really REALLY good.
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