Up next: a Golden Girls marathon

TiVo doesn’t know me.
Oh, it thinks it does. Just hours after I plugged in my new digital video recorder it was making suggestions. It was recording things it thought I should be watching. While I slept it recorded episodes of Sanford and Son and the Cosby Show. When I woke up the next morning it was in the middle of an episode The Beverly Hillbillies.
It was way off. I watched my share of Beverly Hillbillies episodes during the summers of my junior high school years, but I like to think I’ve outgrown jokes about cement ponds.
In theory, the machine is supposed to get smarter as it learns about me. It’s supposed to identify my interests and record accordingly. So far, though, it seems to be getting worse. In the weeks since I set the device up it has remained inexplicably devoted to the idea I like reruns of old sitcoms. It has recorded episodes of Full House, the treacly Friday-night fixture best known for introducing us to the Olsen Twins. It has saved copies of Family Ties and of Boy Meets World.
I realize the 80s were my formative years, but that doesn’t mean I want to relive them.
TiVo also appears to be under the impression I’m a middle school-aged girl. For several straight days it recorded shows from Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel. It recorded something called Hannah Montana, which I gather is about a fictional pre-teen singer. It might be a great show, but considering it’s major characters are all played by 13-year-olds I’m not sure I could watch it without feeling like I needed to call the police and get signed up for a electronic ankle bracelet.
Lately, TiVo’s been all over the map. On Sunday night its list of suggestions for the week ahead included the O’Reilly Factor and Chris Matthews’ Hardball. It had Tucker Carlson and Maury Povich. Jerry Springer and Charlie Rose.
TiVo thinks I might want to catch an upcoming showing of Die Hard 2, which might not be a bad idea, but it also wants to make sure I don’t miss Desperate Housewives. Honestly, I think Wisteria Lane is the next place John McLean should be set loose.
If I listened to TiVo I would find myself a double feature of Brit Hume and Tyra Banks.
I can’t fix my car to save my life, but TiVo thinks I might like something called Automotive Vision.
The closest I get to farming is driving through what’s left of local fields on my way to work, but TiVo is ready and willing to record this week’s airing of Ag Day.
TiVo recommended seven separate Spanish-language shows on Univision despite I haven’t taken Spanish since I was in second grade.
The recommendations aren’t all bad. TiVo suggested Alias, which I own on DVD. It also alerted me to an upcoming airing of Ferris Bueller’s Day off. Once, in college, I put off writing a paper that was due the next day so I could watch that movie in our campus bar. Then again, I probably put off papers in college so I could wash my socks. It wasn’t a high bar to clear.
Mostly, though, the recommendations are confusing. It thinks I might like Little House on the Prairie and Gunsmoke. It wants me to watch the A-Team and Crossing Jordan.
I realize I’m coming late to the whole TiVo sensation. And I can see why people have gotten so excited about a magic box that can set itself to record an entire season of a television show with just a few button presses. I’m sure it will change my life once I get used to it. I just have to feel a little suspicious of any electronic device that tries to sell me on watching women’s golf.