Confessions of a Spec Tater — A Prelude

Columns, Top Story

Hi, my name is Robert.

For the last several weeks, I’ve enjoyed sharing my love of film with you through my column “Bad Movies Done Right.”

Film is a big part of my life and I get a perpetual kick out of being able to share that love with other people through my writing.

As much as I’m a fan of movies, though, I’m an even bigger fan of television — as evidenced by my childhood spent as an overweight kid.

As a child, I would devour anything on TV – usually while simultaneously devouring the giant bowl of junk food sitting on my lap.

It didn’t matter what was showing, I would watch it.

I would watch TV until I got sick – my muscles starting to ache from not being used all day and my stomach rebelling against the fifth glass of soda I had fed it.

As I got older and my schedule started to fill up with school activities and the burgeoning existence of a social life – as stunted as it may have been – I discovered that I didn’t have the time to watch as much television as I used to.

Faced with the prospect of ending my relationship with my boob tube buddy, I did what any self-respecting television junkie would do – I bought a VCR.

After saving enough allowance for a new VCR, I quickly started hording up on blank VHS tapes.

While my friends where experimenting with sex, drugs and rock and roll; I was experimenting with which recording speed maximized tape length and quality.

On Sunday mornings I would pounce on the newspaper, rip out the TV Guide and read every page like most people read the sports section. I actually started to highlight the shows that I wanted to watch, making a planning calendar for my television consumption.

If you haven’t noticed by now, I was a troubled child with an addictive personality.

Realizing that I didn’t have enough time in my nights and weekends to watch everything I was taping, I even managed to convince my ninth grade history teacher to let me watch the television I had recorded the night before after I had finished my daily assignments.

At the time, I thought I was so cool — being able to get away with watching TV in class. Looking back, though, I realize that she probably saw me for the screwed-up little kid I was and took pity on me.

Now, as a responsible adult with a full-time job, I don’t have the time to watch as much TV as I used to.

I still DVR an insane amount of programming — often reaching my hard drive’s capacity level on a weekly basis — but I don’t often watch what I record. I only make the time for the shows that consistently keep me entertained. And when I do watch TV, I limit myself to hour-long intervals — making sure to get up and do something physical after every program.

I still read the TV Guide as if it was my Bible, though.

But although my addictive personality has ebbed a bit with age, my love for television has remained stalwart.

Being a word whore, I have asked kindly for another weekly column in which I can expound about my second great love: the boob tube — specifically television programs that are available on DVD and Blu-Ray.

Every week, tune in for some recommendations, observations and general waxing of poetic.

I promise to be at least as entertaining as that 25-year-old rerun of The Price is Right that you could be watching on the Game Show Network.

When not making bedroom eyes at his television set, Robert Saucedo is an occasional freelance writer whose work appears regularly in The Bryan/College Station Eagle, Dryvetyme Online and in the lost prophecies of Gargamel. Visit him on the web at The Carrying On of a Wayward Son.

Robert Saucedo is an avid movie watcher with seriously poor sleeping habits. The Mikey from Life cereal of film fans, Robert will watch just about anything — good, bad or ugly. He has written about film for newspapers, radio and online for the last 10 years. This has taken a toll on his sanity — of that you can be sure. Follow him on Twitter at @robsaucedo2500.