Who’s your cable daddy?

MisterRogersCable company lines are buried underground, run across electrical poles, and zip-tied to fences.  They carry phone, internet and cable TV to your home, office and the Winnebago parked on the vacant lot next to the railroad tracks with 7 guys living in it.

The one thing they don’t carry is their name for longer than 6 months.  In Montana, cable companies change their name more than a ranch hand changes his underwear, which is once every 6.5 months.

In Montana, what was Bresnan Communications, changed to Optimum, and then changed again to Charter.

Who’s your cable daddy??

Small print on cable TV advertisements should read:  “Disclaimer: The name of this company can change without advanced notice. Check back weekly for updated name.  For cable bills, fill out only the amount and date on your payment check, and we’ll fill in the rest.”  What’s more humorous, is to see the hundreds of service trucks with fresh logo’s removed like a bad tattoo.  Maybe they should use little magnetic signs that can be swapped on a moments notice.  They should also use jumbo dry erase boards in place of billboards and hand draw the new logo!

My solution for the name change confusion was easy,  I dropped cable.  All of it. The phone, TV, and Internet.  Its hard enough to remember my own name much less keep track of the cable-chain feeding frenzy.  Why should I pay a chunk of my bill towards a glut of cheap reality shows and re-run channels I’ll never watch?

Cable companies are really viaducts for conglomerate channel owners that change their network names to re-brand and re-gouge the unsuspecting paying public.  That’s my Soapbox Reality TV.

To ease the transition from sans-cable to partial-staring at a box, I bought a digital antenna.  With my digital antenna I receive 2 networks and 8 PBS stations.  Big Bird, Sesame Street, some English drama with a lot of tea being served with British accuracy, and Mister Rogers re-runs.

I think PBS should produce Mister Rogers fighting in the Octagon against any Brazilians, “Butterbean”, or Randy Couture. This would be filmed in the middle of the street on the corner of Mister Rogers’ fake neighborhood.  I would digitally attach my cable and gladly pay the whomever-it-is-today company $45 to watch Mister Rogers greet his opponent while singing the famous intro of “Won’t you be my Neighbor,” as he enters the Octagon and removes his suit coat, puts on his cardigan sweater, and sings trash to his opponent that was just captured in the Crazy Mountains.

As the referee is reciting the rules, while they are staring down each other,  Mister Rogers smiles and softly sings,”It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood, its a beautiful day for a neighbor, would you be mine, would you be mine?  I’ve always wanted a neighbor just like you…Won’t you be my neighbor?”

This is right after they’ve padlocked him into the iron-octagon with the wild-man-beast that weighs 255 lbs, has ears that look like 2 pieces of cooked cauliflower, and has tattoos of the cemetery in Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.

Well, maybe a video game will suffice.  I don’t think PBS stands for “Public Beatings for Sale.”

That would be Spike TV.

The cable is buried in my front yard with its green tombstone of a junction box stationed over it.  All those channels laid to rest, or just dormant until the next homeowner moves in and resurrects them back to life.  The flickering blue glow from the basement will return as each channel is rifled thru every 8 seconds for 4 consecutive hours (on average).

The new owner won’t care what they call themselves as long as they deliver the cable goods. Give us our MTV.

To treat my cable detoxification,  I did buy the entire “Duck Dynasty” collection on DVD just to experience some redneck influence from the south. It’s a different flavor from Montana redneck.  Their ducks don’t jump barbwire fences and our deer don’t land in swamps.

In 2003, Mister Rogers permanently departed the neighborhood.  When he reached Heaven’s gate, St. Luke greeted him and said, “Welcome to our neighborhood.”

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About miningtheword

I'm an artist, hack-writer, musician, bicyclist, runner, father, and husband, living the life in Montana. Always enjoying the Big Sky and hopefully making someone smile, think, laugh, ponder, curse and enjoy the days we've been given on earth. Why? Because nobody gets out alive.
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2 Responses to Who’s your cable daddy?

  1. Michael North says:

    It’s funny … But … Cable by any name … is still the fastest access to in internet. We live 12 miles out of town and dream of the day it will free us from DSL :o)

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