Happy Bastille Day. At least, it is for me, because we have the day off. We also got the 4th of July, and half a day to watch the sodding World Cup. When is Zambia's national holiday? Maybe we could make a case for taking that one, too. You gotta love working for the French. (Did I mention we work 9 to 4 in the summer?)

I didn't go out to any of the "quatorze juillet" celebrations around town. Instead, I paid hommage to the French Revolution and the Age of Enlightenment in my own way, by staying indoors, watching TV. In English. But I'm humming the Marseillaise as I type.

It's really quiet around here, because Paul's in California for a few days, visiting his folks with his cousin Matt, who was staying with us last week. Matt's a good kid. Oy veh. You know you're getting old when you refer to anyone under 25 as "a kid," even if he's 6'3" and in college.

I'm starting to realize that I've skipped right over the "turning into my mother" phase, by turning directly into my grandmother. "What a nice young gentleman!" I say, talking about Matt in the third person even though he's sitting next to me on the couch, two feet away.

"Now, would you like a Co-Cola, or maybe a caramel, young man?," I ask, inadvertantly channeling a thick Charleston accent. I successfully resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks, however.

I haven't had the place to myself for a whole week in ages. I was hoping to get a lot of stuff accomplished with all the free time and quiet, but so far it hasn't happened. Today, I watched 6 straight hours of the SciFi channel, which was having a "Firefly" marathon. Firefly was easily the best show ever. Sigh. Why was it cancelled, and yet "Family Matters," a.k.a., "You Know, the One With Urkel," endured for what seemed like an eternity. And I'm not just talking about how it felt watching half an episode.

Earlier this year, we finally got cable. Taking a page from the Bush doctorine of blaming journalists for all the problems of the current administrtion, I, too, blame all my lack of accomplishements on "the media." It all started when Paul's parents got us an LCD/HDTV for his birthday. If we ever decide to have a baby, he or she will be profoundly lucky if Paul is even half as jubillant as he was to welcome this TV in our home,thus replacing the old 13-inch set. Very reluctantly (don't tell Paul), I have to admit I kind of ... uh ... agree. Okay, it's really frickin' cool.

Having been raised by educators and such, I've always been rather conflicted on the subject of television. As a kid, I was barely allowed to watch TV, and when I did it was always Masterpiece Theater or Nova or some other - let's just face it - astoundingly boring shit. But to maintain my cred as an "intellectual," (i.e., someone too cheap to pay for cable) I didn't have a TV for 8+ years when I lived alone. I often like to throw this up to Paul.

"Oh, yeah?" Paul says. "And tell me one thing you did during those 8 years?"

There was a pause. The pause got longer. "Okay! This one time? I, uh ... installed a bathroom shelf!"

Paul looked understandably shocked. "When was this?"

"Sometime in ...you know. Clinton was President."

FULL DISCLOSURE: I've never actually installed a shelf. Ever. I've purchased many shelves, and several of them have even been propped up adjacent to the location where, ideally, some magical shelf fairies would have installed it during the night. But never have I personally installed one. Guess I was too busy not watching TV.

Like Blance DuBois, my shining moment was merely an exaggeration; a maudlin play in the amateur community theatre of my own memory.

Nowdays, I really don't know how I lived all those years, especially living alone, without TV. And it's not like I was reading a million books, or out tutoring retarded kids, or even finishing the Celebrity Crossword Puzzle in People magazine. Honestly, I have no idea how I passed the time.

My parents hardly ever watch TV, except for the news. And they fight like rabit wombats. Have been for 37 years, now. It's much harder to argue while watching "Top Model," because higher brain functioning is essentially cut off. My emerging, if controversial new theory, based on almost no actual evidence, is that TV is good for you. Maybe my autobiography will be called, How I Gave Up and Learned to Love "Pimp My Ride."

I would go on, but I might miss Entertainment Tonight.