Lisa Scottoline - Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog - The Amazing Adventures of an Ordinary Woman

Neither does the stock market.

So I say, look forward to your next hot flash. If you’re lucky, you can have five or six a night.

There’s nothing wrong with multiples.

I read that most adults spend three to five hours a day watching TV, but I don’t believe it. Know why?

The only shows on TV are Paid Programming.

The other day I was trying to find something to watch, and everywhere I looked, it was all Paid Programming, one hour after the next.

What gives? When did this start? And, more importantly, how can we kill it?

I never noticed these Paid Programming shows before. I thought only the commercials were paid programming, but no. I tuned in to one to see what it was, and it was a guy selling special brushes. On another, a guy sold special floor cleaners. On a third, a guy sold special weight-loss herbs. I remained unsold. If they’re so special, why aren’t they on Unpaid Programming?

Plus, the programming was so bad, they should pay us to watch it. Then they could call it Pay Us Programming.

Not to mention the fact that we pay for all these extra cable channels to show us the Paid Programming. Uh, I think I just figured out why they call it that-because somebody paid the cable company to show it. In that case, since the cable company got paid by the advertiser and by us, they should change the name. To Sucker Programming.

Who watches Paid Programming, anyway? It’s a mystery. Are there really people in the world who would sit down and watch an hour-long commercial? If there are, they should show themselves, and we should all gather around them and be their friend, in shifts.

Of course, there are no commercial interruptions in Paid Programming, because it’s all commercial. It makes for a weird viewing experience. I think they should interrupt Paid Programming every ten minutes with seven minutes of a sitcom like Friends or Seinfeld. Then we could fast-forward through the sitcom to get to the commercial.

Fun!

But the mystery of Paid Programming pales in comparison with the other shows on the TV listings. I was skimming the guide and came across something on Channel 28 called Educational Programming (EDUC). I tuned in, but the screen was blank. I kept waiting for someone to educate me, or failing that, a guy to sell me something special, but no, nothing.

This doesn’t bode well for our educational system.

It’s like No TV Left Behind.

I kept spinning the dial, as we used to say, and came upon an equally ambiguous listing on Channel 98, called Local Original Programming (LO). I tuned in, and it was showing a man and a woman talking to each other, neither of whom seemed very interested in the conversation.

In other words, my second marriage.

I would rename Channel 98 The Strike Two Channel (LOSER). Or maybe The What-Were-You-Thinking? Channel (GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN).

Either way, you couldn’t pay me enough to watch that programming.

I kept looking for something else to watch, as I had three hours of mandatory viewing left to fill, and I came across Channel 22, which purported to be Government Access Programming (GA).

Wrong.

It had nothing to do with government, but was Paid Programming In Disguise, namely, a series of real estate ads. (“Rear Fenced Yard!” “Six Years Young!” “Family-Friendly Spaces!”). Likewise, The Information Channel (INFO) had nothing to do with information, but was more Paid Programming In Disguise, albeit for non-profit organizations. (“Monthly Sunday Breakfast!” “Annual Spaghetti Dinner!” “Winter Dance!”) I watched for ten minutes and came to the realization that Paid Programming for non-profits is just like Paid Programming for profits, except with worse music.

Things picked up when I got to Channel 166, The Fear Channel (FEAR). It was showing something called FearNet On Demand, so I clicked and got a menu of scary choices such as Blood & Guts, From Beyond, and Interrogation Room. I looked for The Economy, but they didn’t have it.

That’s probably on The Apocalypse Channel (PUT ALL YOUR MONEY IN A MATTRESS).

Or The Armageddon Channel (NOW GRAB THAT MATTRESS AND RUN FOR THE HILLS).

Or The End-Of-Life-As-We-Know-It Channel (AND REMEMBER, THE BEST THINGS IN LIFE ARE FREE).

Anyway I was too scared to click on any of the Fear categories, but I applaud the idea of a Fear Channel. Why shouldn’t there be channels devoted to the major emotions? I’d like to see a Love Channel (CHOCOLATE CAKE). And a Hate Channel (LIVER WITH ONIONS).

And a Lust Channel. (GEORGE CLOONEY).

(WITH CHOCOLATE CAKE).

I never use any moisturizer on my face at night, but when I went to visit daughter Francesca in New York, she and her roommate smeared cream all over their faces before they went to bed.

And their combined age is still less than mine.

So I thought, I should do this. I should take a lesson from the kids. Maybe if I used a moisturizer at night, my face wouldn’t look like a roadmap of wrinkles, with I-95 running parallel to the turnpike on my forehead. So I went home, dug some cream out of the closet, spackled my cheeks, and went to bed. Which is just when Little Tony the puppy trotted over to my pillow and sat on my face.

Whoever said you should use a night cream didn’t have a dog who sleeps on their cheek.

To interrupt the story, I never had a dog sleep anywhere near my head, much less on my face. All my dogs always sleep at the foot of the bed, and it works out just fine. My feet are always warm, and I doze off listening to the rhythm of their contented snoring.

It’s like Ambien, only with fur.

But Little Tony, the new black-and-tan Cavalier puppy, sleeps on my pillow, with his head resting on my cheek or my neck. I know it sounds weird, but it’s cute, cozy, and fun. I highly recommend it, if your social life is at an all-time low, too.

In any event, I forgot about this habit of Little Tony’s as I put on the night cream, so when he plopped his puppy tushie on my cheek, it took me a second or two to understand the implications. And by the time I detached his butt from my face, stray black hairs clung to my cheek like a beard.

Not a good look, for a single gal.

Of course, I didn’t give up, as I need both smooth skin and warm puppy, so since then I’ve gone to bed with the night cream and Little Tony, craning my neck to keep his fur off my face, or my face off his fur, generally twisting and turning most of the night until we both fall into an exhausted, albeit glossy, sleep.

The plot thickens when Little Tony has the first of what would be three operations. As you may remember, the poor little guy had a mother who accidentally bit off his foreskin, evidently taking literally the term “castrating bitch.”