I’ve mentioned a time or two, or twenty, that I have a reality television affliction. I blame it on cable and Tivo because before they came into my life, I happily turned the boob tube off and read books or called people. Or got off my couch and actually left my house. Ok, maybe not so much that last one. I know I need to take responsibility for my actions, and make healthier choices, so I have quietly started to break up with some of my mental junk food, deleting season passes out of Tivo.
Like falling in with the “wrong” crowd, getting hooked on reality television programming is a slippery slope. It started innocently enough for me. Wonderous treasures on Antiques Roadshow. Stir fry on Yan Can Cook. Homesteading drama on Frontier House. Power tools with The New Yankee Workshop. And happy little trees and clouds with Bob Ross. PBS was my commercial-free gateway drug into reality television. Continue reading “Steak and Oh My Gravy”