I just wasted a half hour of my life that I'll never get back.
In my house is a 10-inch TV that's usually either unplugged in a corner upstairs or put away in a closet. Usually I'm slaving away at work on a Thursday morning. Today I'm not. The office is closed. So I slept late, had some coffee, read the news and then thought maybe I'd plug in the tube and see what I've been missing on daytime TV.
The answer is not much. Bowl games on three of my six channels. Cartoons on IdahoPTV. Infomercial on 12. So I ended up on "Maury." I watched for 28 minutes. A pregnant 14-year-old. A 24-year-old who met her father for the first time. A woman who cheated on her husband and had a child outside of her marriage, all the while claiming the kid was her hubby's. Kicking, screaming, name-calling, blame laying, crying ...
Yesterday I finished reading Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic, soon-to-be-a-movie novel The Road. In it, the whole world is dead and those few who've survived are either the good guys (who survive in secret communes) or the bad guys (who survive as cannibals, even if it means eating their own children). It's a bleak world, in which reality is a cold, harsh life without hope for much better.
Sometimes, Boise feels like one of those secret communes.