Commentary by Dick Wolfsie
Mary Ellen went to a conference last week in Chicago and left me at home. Alone.When she abandoned me last year, I realized I did not know how to run the dishwasher or operate the convection oven. I felt guilty about all the dirty dishes she came home to, but I am really good with the clothes washer, so to make up for the mess in the kitchen, I went through Mary Ellen’s laundry basket and washed everything. I don’t know what she ate in Chicago, but when she got home two days later and took everything out of the dryer, nothing fit.
Mary Ellen and I watch so many different programs that I can’t keep the story lines or characters straight. I continually ask her to hit the pause button so I can ask questions, like: Is that a good guy or a bad guy? Is that his wife or sister? Is this a flashback?
The first night she was in Chicago, I checked out the DVR to catch up on some shows.There were shows like: “Underground,” “Billions,” “Homeland,” “Feud,” “24,” and “Designated Survivor.” British dramas and mysteries were in the queue, which I don’t watch because they are not captioned. Why can’t these British people speak English like the rest of us?
I put on “Billions,” a great show about the world of high-stakes finance, starring Damian Lewis as cutthroat investor Bobby Axelrod. Five minutes into it, I called Mary Ellen in her hotel.
“You could only be calling me because a TV show has confused you.”
“Yes, this Bobby Axelrod character, wasn’t he killed a few episodes back?”
“No, Dick, you are thinking of Damian Lewis when he played Nicholas Brody in “Homeland.”
“Is that the show where he beheaded two of his wives?”
“No, that was when he played Henry the VIII in “Wolf Hall.”
“So that’s how he earned his reputation as a cutthroat.”
Mary Ellen made me promise to quit watching TV so she could get some sleep.
I searched under the couch and between the pillows, under the coffee table and behind the lamp. I wanted to turn off the TV. But it wasn’t remotely possible.