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I find it terribly interesting that few people I know (myself included) regularly update their blogs over the weekend, regardless of whether or not they typically work during the week and therefore actually consider Saturday or Sunday different from any other day.
My weekend was excellent, despite being crammed with errand-running and other equally time-consuming bothers that don't necessarily add up to prolonged enjoyment. But fun it was, beginning with watching Friday night's debate over snacky foods with great company, shouting back at the television and laughing incredulously when our defensive Dubya blurted things like, "internets" and, of course, "nucular." With all those angry righties pulling his strings, you'd think one of them would come forward and educate the moron on the proper usage of a word so important to his lies... er, I mean, his campaign.
We followed an amusing trip to candidate-land with three solid hours of VH-1's excellent series "And You Don't Stop... 30 Years of Hip-Hop," which easily drew our attention from the deck of playing cards now lying sadly neglected on the floor. Though a somewhat selective fan, I wouldn't deign to call myself a follower of hip-hop. Yet my endless thirst for knowledge (especially with regards to all things musical), kept me riveted to the narrative of Vibe writers and others more directly in the know. Now, newly imbued with a modicum of street cred--one that increased exponentially with a later viewing of 8 Mile --I'm confident I can formidably debate even Puffy's posse on the profundity of Flava Flav, the subtle lyrical nuances of NWA, the patriarchal influence of Dre and Suge, and the lingering theories surrounding the Tupac-Biggie murders. (Not to mention the simmering homo-erotic undertones of DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince.)
My hip-hop smarts have increased tenfold, thanks to VH-1, who over the years has also contributed substantially to my vast, relatively useless knowledge of the most trivial facts regarding artists on and off my personal favorites roster (for example, in addition to Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks had affairs with Mick Fleetwood and Jimmy Iovine... who knew?). For that reason alone--and for not (often) insulting our intelligence with mindless drivel a la The Real World, et al--VH-1 ranks light years above MTV, in my book. Oh, and VH-1 Classic? Fuggetaboutit. Fucking brilliant.
So, after a highly educational Friday night, I was very happy to stay far away from TV and those pesky Internets for the remainder of the weekend. Actually, it was a welcome gulp of fresh air not to indulge my obsessive need for the latest political/election news and opinion, instead spending much-needed time outdoors, allowing my tired eyes countless hours away from any type of screen, knowing full well the election mayhem and mishegos would proceed despite the absence of my watchful eye.
Posted by ayelet at October 11, 2004 03:32 PM