Okay -- Television. We hate it. We love it. And sometimes we nearly drive over it.
So, yesterday afternoon my youngest kid and I found ourselves (for inconsequential reasons of our own) having to weave around downtown LA, in the middle of what should have been a sleepy hot, sunny Sunday afternoon. I fully expected ours would be a blissfull traffic-free excursion, however we found ourselves pulling off the 110 and immediately dodging lines endless limos, slowing down at every street corner having to acquiesce to throngs of people in odd formal attire, to which my kid and I both thought out loud: "Yo, what. Is. This?! Who died?" Got home later. Found out. Apparently Mr. Emmy did. And that wasn't just another obscure formal mob-flash, that was the 2013 Emmy awards! So, you see, while we do not actually live in LA, we still live close enough that our lives can be caught in unexpected Emmy-jams during normally lazy Sundays. And it truly does not remotely feel glamorous. It feels tedious. But, here it is, a night later -- and given the