You're In My Bubble

My dad had a war with Satellite TV. He refused to buy a $19 per month subscription but he had no qualms what so ever about plunking down $25 a month for a descrambler that the satellite companies always managed to find the code and could thus block the signal. It was an illegal device that he bought on some kind of satellite TV blackmarket.

You could never just 'go' to a channel. You had to actually get off the couch, find out which channel was on which number (there were like twelve thousand channels) and manually hold the up or down button while the big satellite dish moved. It took at least 60-90 seconds to change one channel. I hated the fact that the neighbors could tell we were watching TV just by seeing the big dish move. Coincidentally, I learned that if the dish was perfectly flat, someone was looking at something they probably shouldn't be.

My father fought this battle throughout my entire childhood and into early adulthood. So finally, I was old enough to get a job, and made my room my own private media haven. I bought the biggest box television they made at the time. I called the cable company and ordered the works. My mother was worried about me wasting my money and tried to talk me out of it but I refused. I had been denied a remote control too long. When my mother saw that I was determined, she tried to ride my dime and get daddy to go ahead and let them hook cable up on their TV. He refused. He put on a big show of acting like he was disinterested one and had superior entertainment options due to his oceans of channel choices.

So the night my cable was hooked up, I came home and settled in for the night in my plush chair and watched cable TV. I left the door open so my father would be sure and hear how quickly I could change channels. Occasionally, I would hear static from his TV as he would try and change channels. My mother would be walking back and forth and hear something that caught her attention and she would stop in to see what was going on. She was amazed at actually being able to see a television show with out pops and zaps.

"Jackie! Come here! You've gotta see this! We should have got cable man!" Mother yelled.

"I ain't done it," he yelled back.

So throughout the next few months, I allowed my mother to watch it with me while my dad continued to be stubborn. Then after he thought he had made some kind of point, he began watching shows with me. I was content to allow them to share my cable watching experience with me. Until three months later.

After having worked all day and attending school at night, I came home eager to get in my pajamas and relax. I open the door to my room (I'm 20 at this point) and my mother and father are in my bed...under my covers. Eating Creme twirls. Watching TV. My father is in his underwear only. My mother is in her panties and a t-shirt. They are propped all up on my pillows. I lose it.

"Get out!"

"Come on now...let me finish watching this," my daddy grumbled. My mother looked surprised and I could see the cream filling in her mouth.

"No! Get out! I have been working all day and I want to relax. It's one thing for you to watch TV in my room but it's a completely different thing to come home and find you WALLOWING in my bed getting crumbs in it IN YOU UNDERWEAR. You should have gotten cable when you had the chance. Now get out."

My father jerked the covers off and stormed out. "Well! Don't ask me for nothing! Watch your John Brown Television but you better not need nothing. I'm going to start acting like you!"

I watched as my mother struggled to get out of bed and balance her creme twirl at the same time. I got a wonderful view of her 100% polyester blend panties.

"Do you want me to hold your twirl for you?" I asked.

"No she don't! She don't want you to do a John Brown thing for her do you, Virginia Gail?" My father bellowed.

"Yes I do. I want her to call the cable company and get them to come out here tomorrow. I'm sick of that satellite."