Jimmeh!

I don't have television anymore, at least not in the traditionally accepted sense of the word (meaning the alphabet stations, FOX and at least a few cable affiliates), so whenever I go over to my parents' house these days, I stare at their TV like my spaceship just landed and I'm confused by their earth technology. My sister's been visiting this week, so I've been watching a LOT of television. There's actually some good shit on, if you know where to look. My Mom cheats and uses TV Guide. Using her magical powers, she found a show about Jimmy Carter on Channel 2.



I love Jimmy Carter. I have always loved Jimmy Carter. He and Anne Lamott are the only two Born Again Christians who don't scare me. (Don't believe Jimmeh is a Born Again? According to this documentary, ten years before he hit the white house, he was running around the, quote, "slums of Boston", unquote, distributing Bibles and the word of the Lord.) He is also extremely funny-looking, with those big white chiclet teeth that all successful Democratic candidates seem to have, kinda corny, and possessed of that weird Christian self-absorption that has to do with congratulating yourself all the time for being humble. Oh, and he probably also kinda fucked up during the hostage crisis.



Still, my love is true and unshakable. Why? Because I believe in my heart of hearts that Jimmy Carter is good. Jimmy Carter means well. If he made mistakes, he made them for the best possible reasons -- because he wouldn't do something wrong, even if it was politically expedient.



All this aside, I think I just like him. I think it's a reflex. My Mom swears that when I was little, I used to point him out to her in the newspaper and yell, "JIMMEH!", with a triumphant, drooly baby smile on my fat little face, like I'd discovered where she hid the M&Ms or something. Babies, of course, are wonderful judges of character. For instance, they adore me.



In other television news, during my hiatus from the idiot box, they've apparently started a series of commercials about horrible, horrible diseases that can befall you no matter what you do, even if you take excellent care of yourself (which I don't), and lead a calm and serene lifestyle (laugh ruefully with me, won't you?). Today's horrible, horrible commerical was about deep vein thrombosis, which is when a whole buncha cells decide to stick together and form a clot in your leg, which then travels to your heart or your lungs or whatever and just fucking explodes, and boom, there you are, all dead on the floor and shit. Maybe you're twitching just a little. But it's definitely too late.



Apparently, I was making a terrified expression during this commercial, because my father asked me if they're going to have to monitor my television exposure now. The answer, tragically, is yes.