My husband and I are ?DWTS? fanatics. We plan our social life around it, often regretting invitations that fall on the night of the show. Only in emergencies would we try to TiVo. Not only that, but I vote. Under the show?s rules, you?re allowed to vote five times on one line. I have six lines at home and my cell, so I vote as many times as I can for my favorite.
What an empty shell of a peanut this pampered woman is, scurrying from room to room in her nightie while her husband sits propped up in his striped pajamas, like a prisoner, the remote control kept tantalizingly out of reach so that he can't change the channel to a nature program and watch a python digest its prey, much as his paper once swallowed the Nixon presidency.
As for me, no, I won't be watching the exciting season finale tonight of Dancing with the Sequins, when Bristol Palin will be giving birth to the baby Jesus as her proud mother pumps her little victory fists in the air and special guest judge Nora Ephron looks on, aghast. I have to pack for my annual Thanksgiving trip to the untamed wilds of Maryland, when I take quiet inventory of my life as the scenery whips past the train windows, a movie strip accompanying oh so many memories and reveries which I would love to share with you, in verse, or song. I just hope they don't run out of snacks in the snack car, which would invalidate the entire purpose of having a snack car, though I suppose that in these times of austerity we must learn to "make do."
Source: http://www.vanityfair.com/online/wolcott/2010/11/it-saddens-me-to-think.html
