It's a pretty sad state of affairs when my mother has to inform me about my mistakes in pop culture referencing on this blog.
Back when I gasped (sarcastically, mind you) at the fact that the Bachelor might not propose, Mom was kind enough to leave a voice mail for me telling me it was actually the Bachelorette. I sneered, oh excuuuuuse me at her as if I was too good to watch The Bachelor or The Bachelorette. There was definite attitude there, I'll admit it.
When I ask who the people from People and In Touch are, she is always the one to pipe in with the latest news. I usually shrug and give a social commentary on how I don't believe people should be famous for just existing (ahem, Heidi Montag, anyone?)
Then it happened again. Today I received a text message from my mother informing me that David Hasselhoff is no longer on America's Got Talent, and if I'm going to write about this sort of thing in my blog, I should get it right or run the risk of looking like a complete fool.
And she's right.
Even though I feel like I am in touch with music and movies, my television watching (specifically in the reality tv sector) has taken a direct hit since meeting Joe. Not that we don't watch television. I believe we watch too much, but the luxury of Hulu and Netflix have undermined our pop culture agendas. Err, my pop culture agenda, that is. Joe's isse has always been TCM.
For those of you not in the know (that would have been me before I met my hubs), TCM stands for Turner Classic Movies. They give John Wayne a lotta love. And Joe loves him some John Wayne. Since Joe met me, John Wayne has been curtailed quite a bit. This is not so much because of any distaste for the Duke, but really I can't stand the tinny background music, and the horrible child actors that seem to play a part of it all. It makes me crazy.
Reality tv, with the awesome exception of Jersey Shore, has also been all but been banned in this house, and frankly it's ruining my street cred.
So what do I do? I mean, when I mention stuff, I actually think I know what I'm talking about. But then my own mother has to bring me up to date on the state of the world, which is just sad. I envision myself furtively watching American Idol in the bedroom upstairs while I'm supposedly "taking a shower" or "on the phone", finger pressed on the channel button to switch to something less embarrassing at the mere sound of a floorboard creaking.
Oh, the shame of it all!