Now where was I? Ah yes…sacked out on the couch with the sniffles and a steaming mug of TheraFlu. Now if you've never had the pleasure, I recommend that you shut off the monitor THIS SECOND and hightail it on down to your local drugstore to buy yourself a one-way ticket to the TheraValley, doll! Tee hee! It's good for what ails ya - from post-nasal drip, flu aches and hacking coughs to dealing with calls from your mother when she's all, "But I really thought you and 'Demmy' were in it for the long haul, I don’t understand, he was such a nice boy, and you're not back on that whole Thing again are you? I thought you'd worked through all that with Dr. Rugmunch after the incident…and besides, I can't believe that a daughter of MINE would hold such a right-wing, civil-liberties-stomping, autocratic regime in such high esteem. Did Francine and I teach you nothing? You know we'll be chanting a special prayer for you to the sparrow goddess at doumbek circle tonight…" and you're all just wanting to chill out and watch Hannity & Colmes.
Aaaanyhow, I was navigating Lake Blissful Haze on the SS TheraFlu, when my TiVo made its blingy little "please ma'am, may I change the channel?" noise, and generally I let it, because, well, it's gotten to know me pretty well, and lucky I did 'cause if I've said it once, I've said it a kajillion times - a TiVo should be mandatory for any RoveHo in the know. Just plug "Karl Rove" into your "wish list" (ah…if only that worked in real life…), and your TiVo will grab all shows with Rovey in the listings! Does this make me a TiVo RoveHo? Tee hee! Anyhow, I must have dozed off for a little while, but something…some magical Rove-dar must have aroused me (meow!) from my sleep, because when I woke up…oh glory day, and pass the wet-naps, there was Rovey DANCING on my screen! It was a merry little jig in the snow as he frolicked about like Santa's Senior Advisory Elf at play on a break from the workshop. Oh how he cavorted, ducking frozen projectiles from playful reporters outside a stump stop in the hinterlands of New Hampshire. Needless to say, I was transfixed…and freeze-framed and slow-mo-ed until he was dancing a sinuous sub-zero samba just for me…just for V…chins swaying an achingly sweet pas des deux in the arctic air….oh my sin, my soul…my Rovey…
I checked the info on the TiVo menu and noted that it was "Journeys With George" (and left it cued right up to the money shot for, uh, future use) before browsing to see what other goodies the technology fairies had left me while I was passed out. Why, I must have saved a whole basket of drowning kitties in a past life, because there he was AGAIN! This time in the West Wing Special Episode - and oh, just like me, my snuffly-wuffly Rovey had a wittle cold (maybe from playing in the snow sans his galoshes, that naughty boy!). Boy, that Aaron Sorkin's got a good head on his shoulders. Usually when I hear "special episode", I think oh great, it's gonna be like that one on Little House on the Prairie where the blacksmith in the clown mask rapes Albert's girlfriend, or the Diff'rent Strokes where guest star Gordon Jump tries to touch all the little boys on their winkles. Well, this West Wing sure made MY bathing suit area feel all thingly, but it sure wasn't in a "bad touch" kinda of way, no sirree! Again, my nimble fingers got a workout (on the TiVo remote, you dirty birdie! Okay, maybe it was on one particular hot button…), and I stretched Rovey's twenty mucus-soaked seconds into a heavenly quarter hour before I opted to watch the rest of the very very special special. Spent from my efforts, I must have dozed off again sometime after hearing a low-level Clinton staffer rambling on about "riding The Sizzler with Alan Greenspan" (I checked later and yup indeedy, that's what she said.) because…
(To be continued…soon…I promise…)