House of I Feel Like I Need A Shower

My daughter recently started watching season one of House of Cards, and since I’ve often enjoyed Kevin Spacey’s acting, I decided to watch it with her.

The other night we watched several episodes and then last night, after trying out a new taco joint, we settled in for a few more.



The tacos were good.

After watching about six episodes I can say that nothing good has been added to my life.

There are no sympathetic characters, no one to get behind, to root for, to cheer.

They all lie, manipulate, say and do whatever it takes to get what they want.  There’s no fidelity – marital or professional – there’s no integrity.

There is nothing in any of them that inspires me, nothing I want in my life.

After watching three sleazy hours worth, I thought about the morning I had talking to sixth graders about purity, integrity, honesty, about treasuring one another and treating one another with respect.

That’s where I want to dwell.

Francis Underwood would scoff at my little life – devoid of political power and sleaze – but I like it.

I like talking to kids and having one of them come up to me afterward, throw his arms around my legs – because I’m tall and he’s short – and thank me for telling him the truth.

I like honesty and fidelity and integrity.

So I’m leaving Washington behind.

Unless, in a moment of weakness, I choose an evening of mother/daughter bonding over the health and well-being of my soul.

Speaking of mother/daughter bonding and binge-watching, I’m heading to my mom’s house to binge watch Homeland…. we’re somewhere in season 4.



We’re supposed to want to fork it?


Tine Steiss, Creative Commons

A commercial running here in the U.S. of A. is making my tv watching life so much worse.

Worse, even, than the incessant and gnarly political ads.

The product for sale is some sort of frozen, highly processed food.

That in itself is troublesome, what with all the cancer and diabetes running rampant around here.

We’re supposed to want to “fork it.”


In the ad a guy spanks his naughty mac and cheese (or whatever the heck he’s eating).


Then his co-worker applauds the perversion with a gleeful perversion of his own.

Makes my skin crawl.

Reminds me of an episode of Criminal Minds in which two highly disturbed, highly sick individuals living in the same neighborhood find one another and become partners in sadistic crime.

Like some sort of creepy radar.

Someone way back when said, “Sex sells,” and a whole “subliminal seduction” ad genre was born.

Born and grown-up into a hideous adult.

A blatant, perverted, nothing-subliminal-about-it adult.

Well, guess what?

That adult doesn’t sell.

Not to me anyway.

I’d rather eat my own vomit than “fork” anyone’s product.

For a refreshing, edgy, radical change of pace, madison avenue, let’s see if pure, noble and lovely will sell.