In a recent remote control location dilemma I found myself in a predicament.
I could…..
A) get off couch and search for said missing “clicka” or
B) simply stay comfortable and ride out whatever was on that particular channel until I can trap one of my kids to find the aforementioned remote.
I chose B but I think I regret that decision. As it turns out, the station had somehow landed on one of those DIY-go-getter-hands-on-lets-fix-things-for-shits-and-giggle stations. (I am actually surprised that I know that ‘DIY’ stands for “Do It Yourself”, as should you). Do it myself, huh? How bout you FUCK yourself instead, how about that? OK, sorry.
Specifically, what grinds my gears is the programming of those car repair/auction-your-stupid-Trans-AM shows. I don’t even know what they call it? All I know was there were 2 rugged-looking dudes talking way too enthusiastically about carburetors, engines, motors and other shit that apparently make my wheels go move forward and backward and that kind of…stuff.
After a total of 36 seconds of viewing I was not only bored and completely confused but I was confident I had found the ‘Ambien network’.
How the holy hell do people find this crap interesting; let alone entertaining? How?
Look, it has been well documented that I am not a manly man. No need to flog that fallen horse, but the fact remains, how do people get in to this type of “hobby”? I find it baffling to say the least.
Now, let me put on the back-up alarm (is that close enough to industry jargon for you, Fonzie?) before Bo and Luke Duke jump out from behind the General Lee and put an ass whooping on me about the virtues of Quaker State versus Prestone let me say, ‘being a mechanic is a skill and a talent and if you are gifted enough to actually turn that into a paycheck, carry on.’ Ok? Happy? Great, now screw. The problem is clearly the by-pass line anyway.
This is the part where I should be saying ‘Hey, to each his own’. If it makes you happy, Sheryl Crowe, it cant be that bad, right? Wrong. Wrong.
In my humble, can’t-change-a-light-bulb-ass opinion, this stuff is just too bizarre. How do you really get enjoyment out of getting grease and oil on you? Crammed in to a tiny, confined space on your back (which can actually be fun in Tijuana)? Odors, fumes and hot objects? YUCK, I say. Thanks anyway, but I am good.
At least when I sit back and enjoy the cooking channel(s), I come out of it with a kick ass recipe for some ribs or a delicious Gelato (Thank you, Giada!). Travel channel, you ask? Well, I am now well informed about where to grab a taco in Tacoma or places to contract Malaria in Malaysia? That’s always useful information.
But, the motorhead stuff? Why? Why watch? Unless you have a career in the automotive arts or plan on settling down in the pits of Talladega, why is this beneficial enough to put on television? Cars issues seem basic to me. You run out of gas? Fill ‘er up! Oil is low? Put more in! Tires are slashed? Blame that odd cashier kid that’s always staring at you when show up in his line at the liquor store…in the AM hours…on a Tuesday. Simple enough to me people, isn’t it?
Now, to any mechanics reading this that may need to assist with my vehicular needs in the future, don’t try any bullshit on me about the ‘Johnson Rod’. I may know jack dick about cars, but don’t try to out-Seinfeld me, Puddy.
Can I Be Frank & Crew? 