Author: Steve Cavers

Day 7: One week without television.

I think I have this addiction licked, and the solution has nothing to do with sock puppets. After all, licking sock puppets just gets lint on your tongue (as it turns out).

For the solution, I returned to my surrogate television — the cardboard box with the rectangular hole cut in the front. It was a reasonable puppet theatre, but Worf found it a little cramped by Klingon standards and kept killing his crewmates.

To help him out a little, I cut another hole in the back. And then it struck me. I could see right through the box. I could see out the window!

Yes, suddenly I was watching a show more interesting than any episode from any Star Trek series. Except maybe Amok Time, where Kirk and Spock fight with lirpas on the planet Vulcan. That one’s cool.

Anyway, because my surrogate TV was next to the window, I could look right through it and watch the street below. I saw cars going back and forth. I saw the neighbors outside the house that really needs a coat of paint. I saw stray cats fighting for territory. I saw people walking dogs and picking up the poop in little baggies. I was watching reality TV.

Now all I have to do is wait for the neighbors to start doing wacky things like setting up aluminum ladders next to power lines or jumping off the roof into a kiddie pool. This should entertain me at least as long as it will take Geordi and Data to finish converting my microwave into a holodeck.

Day 5: On Sunday, I hit rock-bottom. After spending a few quality moments writing in my blog, I noticed a sound — a familiar sound. What was it? So quiet, like distant voices and music. It sounded just like… like my neighbors were watching the Simpsons!

Slowly, quietly, I pressed my ear to the floor and for several blissful minutes, I listened to the muffled back-and-forth dialog and occasional “doh”. Eventually Jean-Luc and Deanna brought me back to my senses. When I’m in a tough spot, I know which sock puppets I can count on.

Unfortunately, the Wesley sock has vanished. I can only assume that he’s travelling in another dimension somewhere. Either that or he’s in the wash.

Once you reach bottom, as Deanna says, it can only get better from there. At least I think that’s what she said. At the time, she and the Riker sock were in the hot tub — well, my kitchen sink, actually — and she got a little distracted halfway through what she was saying. I’m okay about that. I mean, she wasn’t my type anyway. I prefer something in wool.

Day 4: I made it through all of Saturday. Around noon I cut a hole in the bottom of my cardboard box TV to make a puppet theatre. With a few socks and marker pens, I found I could make a pretty decent sock puppet for each of the cast of Star Trek: the Next Generation.

Captain Picard says I’m doing a fine job, and if I keep up the good work, he’ll field-promote me to Acting Ensign. I think this is making the Wesley sock jealous, because he won’t appear in my upcoming sock puppet movie. He’ll keep doing the sock puppet conventions, though. The Deanna sock keeps distracting the crew with her low-cut poly-cotton blend, but I think it’s good for morale.

I’m very glad of the puppet shows. Without them, I’d go completely nuts.