Admittedly, I can be more oblivious to the world around me than an Amish shut-in enrolled in the witness protection program.
It takes my kids to highlight the personality quirks I don’t even realize that I’m carrying around and I gotta say, they do one hell of a job keeping me up to speed. One of the quirks of which I am well aware of is that I am a creature of habit. Even the not so good ones such as reading the newspaper at the dinner table, and talking animatedly to myself in public without benefit of a Bluetooth. No apologies, since I feel it’s good to have habits, win or lose.
My latest quirk apparent? I’m the last person to know Netflix actually sucks.
Yeah, I had no idea this was the case. I’ve been a subscriber for, I don’t know . . I’m oblivious, remember? A while. And in all that time, it never occurred to me that Netflix offered less variety than a Christian radio station.
My Que list rates lower than Obama’s Q rating in Texas. For every stalwart such as The Fighter, there are a hundred less than memorable titles. Classics such as The Human Centipede, Dead Snow (Nazi Zombies), Bloodlust Zombies (No actual zombies) and Arctic Blast (I wish there would have been zombies).
Oh well. I’m a keep on keeping on, because the very fact that Netflix rates so low makes it rather attractive in my eyes. People are too spoiled by technology as far as I’m concerned. If I could go back to rabbit ears and some UHF, I’d be up on the roof singing songs all the way back to the Drifters.
This is how I look at my entertainment gets.— If I can’t find something that interests me, I’ll break open a book, go for a run, make a Dagwood sandwich, spoil up a starched Martini, have sex. And on a good night, I might do all of the above.
I scratch out a moody independence every day of my week, thank you very much. Old school is all about finding your fix, rather than making it up.