I Want My PVR

Yesterday was Wednesday, which can only mean one thing: Today, there is one less contender for the title of American Idol.

This week’s result show promised to be a goodie – someone would get the boot and we’d be down to the top 5. TOP 5! That’s huge! I know the results show isn’t nearly as exciting as its Tuesday night cousin but still, it’s the one with the definitive ending. Only one small problem. I missed it.

Instead of tuning in, I channel surfed, wandered into my kitchen, did a sudoku – anything but watch the show live. I had every reason to be cocky. I had PVR. I could watch it anytime. Commercial-free. Right?

WRONG!

I was betrayed. My trusty PVR (that’s Personal Video Recorder for those who are still in the dark ages) cheated on me. Left me high and dry. I admit, I tried to change it. Instead of sticking with the ever- faithful “record on this channel any day any time” I decided to play around and customize the times. And I got screwed. And not just out of any old show – out of American Idol.

I know I shouldn’t complain. Getting a life aside, I should be thankful it wasn’t Monday night’s 24/Prison Break combo platter. In the golden olden days I would’ve positively lost it had my PVR skipped Arrested Development. Maybe we shouldn’t go there, actually. It did (miss it) and I did (lose it).

I blame my husband. I blame him for a lot of things, but in this case it really was his fault. Every week we PVR Idol. We PVR everything, but it’s especially good for reality shows, where the commercials come fast and furious. For some reason AI always ends a minute or two after the PVR has stopped recording. So this week, at my man’s suggestion, I set it to end 5 minutes later. We thought we were pretty damn clever. And I checked it. Twice. And the rest is history.

I ranted. I raved. I ran upstairs to check on-line. NOTHING WAS POSTED. Eventually, Newsweek.com came through and I found out what everybody else already knew: America voted (Canada isn’t allowed) and The Pickler was history. Finally! Sure, I felt for her. The whole daddy’s-in-prison-but-I’ve-got-my-grandpa thing tugged at my heart strings too, I’m not a rock. But this is prime time TV, not a telethon. So ta-ta, Kelly, it’s trailer- time. (and I don’t mean those cheesy faux-mercials)

Today, I’m much calmer and my PVR has been reprogrammed to avoid any future mishaps. Sure, I missed the show. But I also missed the whining lines and insipid swan song of The Pickler…..Thank you, PVR!