I love the Olympics. Really, really, truly, truly love them. And I don't know why. I'm not a sporty kind of girl. I can't sit through an entire baseball or football game. But I'm going to actively waste the next two weeks sitting right here on the couch watching every little event. The kids are down with it now. Give it a few days. They will get sick of beach volleyball and me pretty damn fast.
Young newlyweds and homeowners, the Man and I had one little TV with a funky antennae wire that we would drape around lamps and out the front door to get reception. We really didn't care. But then the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer were coming up and I suddenly realized that the situation was unacceptable. We had cable TV a few days later. Go Team!
We still only had one TV and it was fairly small. We didn't care. But then the Summer Olympics in Atlanta were coming up. Our home had acquired these two demanding little people who kept me upstairs quite a bit. It didn't take much discussion on what had to happen to keep peace in our home. A short time, later I had a set in my bedroom, with cable. USA!
Our downstairs TV seemed to be shrinking. The dog had eaten the remote and the buttons on the set had snapped off from overuse. We had to use an unsharpened pencil to poke at the broken buttons to turn it on or change the channels. We didn't care. But then the Summer Olympics in Sydney were coming up and with Olympics being broadcast on multiple NBC channels, a change was needed. A trip to Best Buy and a great deal on a floor model graced our home with our current behemoth. (The pencil TV was sold in the next yard sale to be used just for video games. I hope it's still making people happy out there.)
It's been awhile since we've had an upgrade in our television situation. But be assured that when it happens again, an Olympic-sized event will probably be the cause.