The TV in my office at home likes to turn itself on sometimes (who doesn’t). It usually happens in the middle of the night when the house is dark and quiet. A blue-white glow will tiptoe into our bedroom, and it will sound as if someone is having a conversation in the other room. Muffled words waft over my snoring face, waking me up. Freaking me out. I worry someone is in the house. Then I remember. The glow. It’s the TV. I stumble down the hall into my office, turn the thing off and stumble back to bed. If I’m lucky, I go right back to sleep.
[side note: actually, what I’m talking about is not technically a TV. I inherited this viewing machine from my brother Mason, and in true Mason fashion (he got this from our grandfather), it isn’t a regular old TV that you plug in and watch. It’s actually a large flat screen computer monitor that hooks into a stereo system and a cable box. Perhaps this set up contributes to the thing having a life of its own.]
Around 4AM this morning, Dali (the 70-pound dog) jumped up on the bed. Scared. She only does this when a thunderstorm has arrived. I waited for the flash of light and crack of thunder. None came. Then I saw the familiar glow. The volume must have been low or completely off because I didn’t hear anything. Not only was there no muffled conversation, there was no sound at all. The TV could wait.
Getting the dog off the bed was the more pressing issue, an endeavor similar to trying to hoist a 70-pound bag of flour from a dead lift, if that bag of flour had the ability to growl at you and bite. The dog and I were in the midst of that grunting, expletive-ridden dance when suddenly the previously quiet TV was loud. Not the usual indistinguishable conversation from the other room. We’re talking high volume. Almost window-rattling. Suddenly that became the more pressing issue, and it required my immediate attention.
To further add to the surreality of it all, the TV was playing was the opening credits of “Married…with Children.” Love and Marriage by Frank Sinatra. Loud as shit in the middle of the night. It was all just so…random. I walked down the hall, turned down the volume and then turned off the TV and returned to the bedroom to remove the sack of nervous, air-biting flour from the bed. Another night in paradise.
It wasn’t until I was sitting at my computer this morning reading my friends’ comments (bitching, mostly) about the royal wedding that it occurred to me that my TV made a joke. Blasting Love and Marriage, the theme song to TV’s most non-fairy tale 3-D family, just as a big stupid wedding is happening across the pond…
Sometimes random coincidences don’t always feel so random.
Yeah. I know.
I’m just saying.
Timing is everything.