18 April 2015
Story #768
R. Linda:
Fiona mentioned Wolf Hall, a new series on PBS from England. Now, I will say with Dragon in me house, we do watch a lot of public telly, not because we are intellectual British freaks, but because we are forced more or less by the New Jersey Dragon and the fact local TV is our only other option.
The aforementioned new series had me intrigued as to what it was. The adverts for it never showed anything but a black screen with two voices or one talking. And what they or he was saying I couldn't fathom. That was enough for me to deem it cheesy most likely, but for the New Jersey Dragon, that was enough to be a gotta-watch-it kinda show!
Since I now live in the far boonies of New Hampshire, we get almost no telly reception, and we do pay through the nose for the privilege of having a little TV, and mostly, the stations we get are all local. Can you imagine tuning in to the local news for the price of hogs and chickens for the week? And the advertising is just as bad, with used car salesmen pitching how great one would look in their PRE-OWNED PINTO! For joy, I tell ya, one hasn't lived until one lives in the New Hampshire sticks. Who knew?
Where I used to live (closer to a college town, where things like supermarkets were only five miles away, and having Internet and wireless was the way of things), I was living the high life and didn't know it. I live in rural New Hampshire, where everyone rides a horse to the general store (no supermarkets out this way, no indeed) and owns a truck, guns, and a bob house. It was an entirely new way of living in the past. I am somewhat gobsmacked people do and seem to like it. The cable company proposed free underground cable lines to hook the little town up for Internet and TV, but the folks said NO. As a result, no Internet and no cable TV. Their idea of relaxing be to sit around the fireplace and talk! Have you ever heard of such nonsense?
Me kiddo's thumbs twitch because there is no PlayStation, Halo, or whatever it was that they used to play on their now useless iPads. Me wife has taken up knitting, which, if you know me wife, seems like the last thing in the world she'd think to take up. Mam watches the paint dry, and I pace the floorboards bored out of me skull!
So PBS be the only saving grace from Boston that has some kind of thinking going into it, even if after every 20 minutes they stop the programming to prod the viewer into a donation to keep the good stuff coming!
Therefore, we now watch PBS more frequently than anything else since we own no hogs or chickens. Oh, one more thing, the weather, you'll like this: there is a local weatherman who talks like he's from the hills of Tennessee who has viewers call in. The calls are all idiotic as his viewers will ask crazy stuff like, "Can I put the hogs out tomorrie while I go down ta da generl' store fur a few of dem pickles cum up frum Rhode Ilynn?" Yup, and then there is the poor sod-like meself who calls in and says, "Please, what's the weather?" And the answer is, "Look out the winder and you'll find out!" Uh duh.
As I say, we were driven to madness in New Hampshire, so we tuned in to the PBS station, not at all minding the 20-minute interruption for donation begging. They do a good job of us calling in with our credit cards ready because they tell us, "If we don't make our quota, all these wonderful programmes you are currently enjoying will be gone." Yup, gone, and we will be looking at the farm report or, worse, a black screen without anyone talking!
Back to Wolf Hall. There we were and on it came and well if you watch it, it is not about Wolfie's family at all (oh drat! No bad arse happenings and flying bullets and speeding car chases), but a lot of non-action with lots of ponderous dialogue. And if you are an American, good luck understanding what you are watching. I tell ya! The Dragon made the 20-minute pause for donations a dream come true because she'd watch five minutes of the show and pause it to ask Mam and me, "Who's THAT? What relation is he to that guy, you know, the one that keeps doffing his cap?" My favourite question is, "When will Thomas Cromwell become Oliver Cromwell and ride havoc over the Irish and burn the monks?" Oi, oi, oi!
The Dragon-in-law knows nothing of British history. The only British history she does know is the American Revolution and the burning of the White House in 1814 during the War of 1812. That's the extent of her knowledge, so watching Henry the 8th and Thomas Cromwell is way out of her league. That she's heard of Oliver (no direct relation to Thomas) be a wee bit of a miracle, though when I was asked to explain Oliver's connection, if any, to Thomas, the telly was paused for a good 45 minutes until she resumed. I left to tear out me hair.
"Thomas's sister married this old geezer (no names needed because she wouldn't know the name anyway) and they had a son and his name was Oliver and sometime in his life he took the name Cromwell probably because it was better known than the one he had. But he isn't a biological son of Thomas Cromwell."
"Then who's Rafe and Richard, and who's the Jeffrey guy?" Dragon throws at me.
"Rafe is Ralph, and he, like Richard, are wards of Cromwell's. Rafe isn't a Cromwell, but Richard's father died, and he has no other family, so he asked Thomas if he could take the Cromwell name. I don't know who Richard was, or if he's fictional, but you saw Cromwell say yes. Jeffrey will be the true son of Thomas Cromwell. Ugh!"
"So who were the two little girls and that young woman who died, I am assuming his daughter and his granddaughters?" She asked, fingering the pause button, which I was hoping she'd un-pause, but no, she was on to something else.
"That was his wife and his daughters." Said I to her horrified expression at hearing that.
"WHAT? Was he a dirty old man or what? Making like he's a pious soul filled with sedition and impure thoughts!" She throws out and un-pauses, and we are back at it for all of two seconds. She pauses again and says, "Sweating sickness?"
I acted like I knew NOTHING about that because I am not a historian or a doctor; I just wanted to watch the show. So yes, I left her with the misconception that it was all fiction. I just couldn't do it. I could not get into a discussion that I knew she'd not believe anyway.
This went on and on, and it got to be where I found meself getting up and dialling the station to make a donation, which was the only way to shut her gob. I did it the first time because I was living in fear that I would be forced to watch Tennessee Bob's weather programme and the local yokel programming of rounding up sheep with border collies, how to perfect your turkey calling abilities, how to skin a snake or worse, tune into Betty's Improv Cooking Show where in the one and only episode I actually watched, Betty waited for her daughters to go off to the schoolhouse so she could go out and make short work of the pet rabbit and prepare it for that night's supper. The whole thing I thought a joke until the little girls came home and raved about the stew and then because Betty's a good Christian woman and couldn't tell a lie, she fessed up they were all chowing down on Rupert Rabbit, well, it was a bit loud all the screaming and shouting going on that I actually had to get up to turn down the sound before I finally clicked off.
I know it is all bizarre, but I honestly had no idea moving from me former abode to the boonies would make such a difference in my lifestyle. So yes, for what three episodes of Wolf Hall? I donated most of my salary just to be too busy to answer Dragon's crazy questions.
Gabe
Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Fiona mentioned Wolf Hall, a new series on PBS from England. Now, I will say with Dragon in me house, we do watch a lot of public telly, not because we are intellectual British freaks, but because we are forced more or less by the New Jersey Dragon and the fact local TV is our only other option.
The aforementioned new series had me intrigued as to what it was. The adverts for it never showed anything but a black screen with two voices or one talking. And what they or he was saying I couldn't fathom. That was enough for me to deem it cheesy most likely, but for the New Jersey Dragon, that was enough to be a gotta-watch-it kinda show!
Since I now live in the far boonies of New Hampshire, we get almost no telly reception, and we do pay through the nose for the privilege of having a little TV, and mostly, the stations we get are all local. Can you imagine tuning in to the local news for the price of hogs and chickens for the week? And the advertising is just as bad, with used car salesmen pitching how great one would look in their PRE-OWNED PINTO! For joy, I tell ya, one hasn't lived until one lives in the New Hampshire sticks. Who knew?
Where I used to live (closer to a college town, where things like supermarkets were only five miles away, and having Internet and wireless was the way of things), I was living the high life and didn't know it. I live in rural New Hampshire, where everyone rides a horse to the general store (no supermarkets out this way, no indeed) and owns a truck, guns, and a bob house. It was an entirely new way of living in the past. I am somewhat gobsmacked people do and seem to like it. The cable company proposed free underground cable lines to hook the little town up for Internet and TV, but the folks said NO. As a result, no Internet and no cable TV. Their idea of relaxing be to sit around the fireplace and talk! Have you ever heard of such nonsense?
Me kiddo's thumbs twitch because there is no PlayStation, Halo, or whatever it was that they used to play on their now useless iPads. Me wife has taken up knitting, which, if you know me wife, seems like the last thing in the world she'd think to take up. Mam watches the paint dry, and I pace the floorboards bored out of me skull!
So PBS be the only saving grace from Boston that has some kind of thinking going into it, even if after every 20 minutes they stop the programming to prod the viewer into a donation to keep the good stuff coming!
Therefore, we now watch PBS more frequently than anything else since we own no hogs or chickens. Oh, one more thing, the weather, you'll like this: there is a local weatherman who talks like he's from the hills of Tennessee who has viewers call in. The calls are all idiotic as his viewers will ask crazy stuff like, "Can I put the hogs out tomorrie while I go down ta da generl' store fur a few of dem pickles cum up frum Rhode Ilynn?" Yup, and then there is the poor sod-like meself who calls in and says, "Please, what's the weather?" And the answer is, "Look out the winder and you'll find out!" Uh duh.
As I say, we were driven to madness in New Hampshire, so we tuned in to the PBS station, not at all minding the 20-minute interruption for donation begging. They do a good job of us calling in with our credit cards ready because they tell us, "If we don't make our quota, all these wonderful programmes you are currently enjoying will be gone." Yup, gone, and we will be looking at the farm report or, worse, a black screen without anyone talking!
Back to Wolf Hall. There we were and on it came and well if you watch it, it is not about Wolfie's family at all (oh drat! No bad arse happenings and flying bullets and speeding car chases), but a lot of non-action with lots of ponderous dialogue. And if you are an American, good luck understanding what you are watching. I tell ya! The Dragon made the 20-minute pause for donations a dream come true because she'd watch five minutes of the show and pause it to ask Mam and me, "Who's THAT? What relation is he to that guy, you know, the one that keeps doffing his cap?" My favourite question is, "When will Thomas Cromwell become Oliver Cromwell and ride havoc over the Irish and burn the monks?" Oi, oi, oi!
The Dragon-in-law knows nothing of British history. The only British history she does know is the American Revolution and the burning of the White House in 1814 during the War of 1812. That's the extent of her knowledge, so watching Henry the 8th and Thomas Cromwell is way out of her league. That she's heard of Oliver (no direct relation to Thomas) be a wee bit of a miracle, though when I was asked to explain Oliver's connection, if any, to Thomas, the telly was paused for a good 45 minutes until she resumed. I left to tear out me hair.
"Thomas's sister married this old geezer (no names needed because she wouldn't know the name anyway) and they had a son and his name was Oliver and sometime in his life he took the name Cromwell probably because it was better known than the one he had. But he isn't a biological son of Thomas Cromwell."
"Then who's Rafe and Richard, and who's the Jeffrey guy?" Dragon throws at me.
"Rafe is Ralph, and he, like Richard, are wards of Cromwell's. Rafe isn't a Cromwell, but Richard's father died, and he has no other family, so he asked Thomas if he could take the Cromwell name. I don't know who Richard was, or if he's fictional, but you saw Cromwell say yes. Jeffrey will be the true son of Thomas Cromwell. Ugh!"
"So who were the two little girls and that young woman who died, I am assuming his daughter and his granddaughters?" She asked, fingering the pause button, which I was hoping she'd un-pause, but no, she was on to something else.
"That was his wife and his daughters." Said I to her horrified expression at hearing that.
"WHAT? Was he a dirty old man or what? Making like he's a pious soul filled with sedition and impure thoughts!" She throws out and un-pauses, and we are back at it for all of two seconds. She pauses again and says, "Sweating sickness?"
I acted like I knew NOTHING about that because I am not a historian or a doctor; I just wanted to watch the show. So yes, I left her with the misconception that it was all fiction. I just couldn't do it. I could not get into a discussion that I knew she'd not believe anyway.
This went on and on, and it got to be where I found meself getting up and dialling the station to make a donation, which was the only way to shut her gob. I did it the first time because I was living in fear that I would be forced to watch Tennessee Bob's weather programme and the local yokel programming of rounding up sheep with border collies, how to perfect your turkey calling abilities, how to skin a snake or worse, tune into Betty's Improv Cooking Show where in the one and only episode I actually watched, Betty waited for her daughters to go off to the schoolhouse so she could go out and make short work of the pet rabbit and prepare it for that night's supper. The whole thing I thought a joke until the little girls came home and raved about the stew and then because Betty's a good Christian woman and couldn't tell a lie, she fessed up they were all chowing down on Rupert Rabbit, well, it was a bit loud all the screaming and shouting going on that I actually had to get up to turn down the sound before I finally clicked off.
I know it is all bizarre, but I honestly had no idea moving from me former abode to the boonies would make such a difference in my lifestyle. So yes, for what three episodes of Wolf Hall? I donated most of my salary just to be too busy to answer Dragon's crazy questions.
Gabe
Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved
the good news is you have a garbage disposal so you aren't exactly living in the dark ages. i'm impressed i was an inspiration for your story lol
ReplyDeleteOhhh don't let me muse hear you say that, LOL
DeleteI'm telling you, just one move away from living in a cave! And screw a garbage disposal! No internet? No life!
ReplyDeleteWhoo! Fiesty, fiesty.
DeleteWell, well, well, I will have to get my own reality show to keep you entertained I think. I'll call it Wolf Does Dublin and try to keep the bullets and speeding cars to a minimum. Lots of stiff dialogue and dashing period clothing. But I fear you'll think you are watching Poldark, why bother eh? Poor you! I'd almost ring up WGBH and donate to keep you in flicks. By the way, Betty's cooking show sounds right up your mother--in-law's broomstick. Just sayin' Gabe. ;)~
ReplyDeleteI be so telly deprived I'd almost take you up on that. I will have to tape the Betty Show (should I be desperate enough to watch it) and send it to your sarcastic self.
DeleteBack in the day when there was no telly, what did people do hmmmm? Baby number four on the horizon do you think? LOL
ReplyDeleteIs that how you did it?
DeleteI'm old but am not THAT old! You cheeky monkey
DeleteI have missed a lot! Catch up is on my list Gabe. I think you are making Betty's cooking programme up (at least I hope you are). As to Wolf doing Dublin, I think Brendan has already done that LOL. Though the "stiff" dialogue and "dashing" clothing, well, Mr. W is good at double entendre and if you don't know him you'd not know Gabe.
ReplyDeleteDon't listen to her Gabe, she has me mixed up with my cousin the king of double entendres.
DeleteThe anonymous lexicon you mean, LOL
DeleteThat's the one Gabe, and I know Brendan has done Belfast and all of the emerald isle, as it stands I don't know a town in Ireland he hasn't done. ;_~
DeleteI REALLY hate when people say the word OLD! It's pot calling the kettle black. Gabe is a youngun still. So watch what you say, I'm still spry enough to kick some butt.
ReplyDeleteMy heroine my muse
Deletenah ha itz cappy me cappy jus sos ya knowz
DeleteMate, I think it is from that poem by Longfeller, Captain My Captain one of me fav versea to recite when watching old people battle with canes and throwing oatmeal.
DeleteOhhh boy
DeleteWhere didie the threat go ta? ya deleted it LOL I wanna see da clash of da oldsters wit da dentures and depends flyin here
ReplyDeleteUmmm what I miss?
DeleteWhat? Clash of the oldsters? Walkers involved? Iron pills? They dress up in diapers like sumo's? I want a front row seat Mr. Weasel, can you get me tickets for the crew mate?
DeleteGabe! It's getting brutal in here lol
ReplyDelete