Forgive me while I catch up a bit.
A few disappointments on Friday left me feeling a bit depleted. First, E was indefinitely delayed in Casper. He would not be home until after the weekend. I was dejected, especially since I had officially began to Really Miss Him the night before. Then my car stereo began to act up. Driving without a soundtrack is simply not as much fun. To add to my woes, the digital cable installed on Thursday worked for only one channel. My frantic four-fifteen phonecall was fortunately acknowledged and a cable guy brought me a new box before they closed for the weekend.
I wrestled with the new cable system briefly, but the sheer number of stations overwhelmed me, so I put on a DVD. This feeling was reminiscent of my first visit to a Super Wal-Mart. The lights were bright enough to be dazzling, and the rows of goods seemed to never end. I was so stunned by the possibility of what I could buy that I could not actually put anything in my cart. These days I am quite friendly with our local Superstore. Hence, I’m optimistic about digital cable, especially since I discovered that Willard is in heavy rotation on the Encore Mystery channel.
Saturday I visited with the folks. Dad chatted jovially with me about our shared enthusiasm for graphic artists from the seventies. He sent me home with the graphic novel Pigeons from Hell, beautifully adapted by Scott Hampton and with an introduction by Ramsey Campbell. Lucky me! Mom eagerly related her adventures in computer shopping, inundating me with technical jargon and complex buying strategies. Despite her Dell Computer Mania, I was grateful that she was still Mom enough to send me home with some food–I had been subsisting on Cheerios and rice milk for most of the week.
In the evening, I fiddled some more with the digital cable, exclaiming “Wow!” and “Gee!” at irregular intervals. Despite the nifty selection of movies, I wound up glued to the computer until it was time for Saturday Night Live. Since last season was rather poor, I was morbidly curious about this season’s premiere. My already low expectations prevented disappointment. After fifteen minutes of watching, I was astonished to find myself strangely attracted to the host, Steve Corell. His elegant suit and well-groomed appearance certainly reminded me of E. I was so disconcerted that I popped off the TV and spent the next few hours back on the internet (not googling Corell once, mind you).