My mom just told me she upgraded our DVR, and I got super super jealous. Gabriella has two televisions (one in the kitchen, one in the dining slash living room) and both of them seem to be either on their very last leg, or possessed.
Massimo gets a bit worked up when the TV stops working. His enraged muttering and Gabriella's interjections ("Oh, Madonna," "Oh my gohd," "calma, calma Massimo!") have peppered many a meal these last few days. Which is funny, because otherwise there's no pepper on our table. Just salt, vinegar, and oil. I love Massimo's very careful, precise method of dealing with the television: pick it up, drop it, bang it a few times, throw in some wear words, jostle it around a bit more, and walk away muttering. Somehow, somehow, it always does the trick.
In the end it's all worth it, because Italian TV is kind of awesome. And by that, I mean it's incredible. And I've only seen Canale 5--I can only imagine what premium is like.
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