Until the Jason Bourne trilogy plagued my life, I loved Matt Damon. I mean, I freakin' loved him. And, truthfully, had I not met and fell in love my darling husband, those three fateful films probably would have held no bearing upon my feelings for Matt.
But, as it is, I did met and fall in love with Rowdy, just like he met and feel in love with Jason Bourne. Every mothereffin' time one of them is on television, you can bet your sweet ass that's what we are watching. It doesn't matter if we just watched that very one the day before. Since we subscribed to HBO and Showtime, the Bourne Ultimatum has been on one of them non-freakin-stop. I have lived in an endless loop of the keenly crafty, brilliantly deadly CIA assassin narrowly escaping his relentless hunter. Thank God Matt is so super fly, that's the only thing that's sustained me to this point.
Now, the thing that makes this particularly aggravating to me is how little control I have over our television programming. During the daytime, the boys dominate it and, in the evening, Rowdy does. When he comes in, he immediately switched the tv. He doesn't ask if I am interested in the current show. Nope, he just switches it. Most the time I just growl inside my head and continue whatever I am doing, knowing I have little chance of winning this battle. Not only that, I know Rowdy works hard and that tends to make me feel like I should let him do whatever he wants to. Even as I type that, the feminist inside my head is going apeshit crazy.
Sometimes, though, when I am feeling a little feisty or if I am intrigued with whatever show I was watching, I turn the tv back as I throw random cuss words at him. Then he bitches back about how I've been home all day with the television and I remind him that it's during the crap Dr. Phil hours, which I don't believe shouldn't count. We make our arguments like two attorneys picking like vulchers of the bones of some wildly important case.
However, the ultimate Achilles heel to my defense in Rowdy's opinion is if I have ever seen the program before. And I don't mean if I've watched it in the last month or 6 months or freakin' year. No, I mean EVER.
I remind him of these strict guidelines he has drafted in past television programming decisions. Now, I know my man and I know that deep down he wants to say, "Well, that's because it is something you've watched before. It doesn't apply to something I want to power watch so many times it makes your hair tingle."
Wisely, he forgoes that argument, but the one he ultimately makes is almost as silly. According to Rowdy, watching the Bourne series and the Crocodile Dundee series and fucking Waterworld over and over and over is much different than watching A League of Their Own once every five years. And that reason, my friends, is because "these movies are just awesome."
UPDATE: About 30 minutes after I published this post, Rowdy came in the house, turned the television from The History Channel to some bullshit football game, kicked up the feet of his lazy boy and then pulled the hood of his coat over his eyes and went to sleep. I waited about 10 minutes and then turned it to Wife Swap. As soon as I did, he popped his eyes opened and demanded that I return it to the game. When I protested because he was sleeping, he explained that he sleeps better if he can listen to the game while he snoozes and then I explained that he would also sleep better if I clubbed him over the head with a fucking skillet. So now I am watching Colorado play Nebraska with the steady hum of Rowdy's snores in the background.
PS--If you haven't entered the contest yet, there is still plenty of time.