There's a commercial on TV at the moment for some DVR brand or another, in which a chic young woman breezes through her high-powered job and her fancy social functions -- none of which appear to involve watching television -- while she explains to the camera how DVR has changed her world. She just lives her life, and her TV shows are there when she wants them. I used to see this ad and think: Oh man, this woman talks about recording her TV shows like it's a matter of death importance, but an inconvenient one, like remembering to take blood-pressure or diabetes medication, and now her messy dilemma has been solved: Take this pill once a month and forget it, and get on with your busy day. I used to think: This is ridiculous. It's just TV.

And then I got a DVR, and now it's all clear to me.

I've been an early adopter -- one of those gadget-happy people who's the first to get her hands on a new toy -- of lots of technology. I started using ATMs in 1987, when they were few and far between and lots of folks were still suspicious of letting a machine handle their cash. I got my first DVD player in 1998, about a year after they were first introduced in the U.S. -- there were few actual DVDs available at the time, but one of them was Goodfellas, one of my favorite flicks, so I splurged, and never regretted spending $850 on something I could have gotten for $250 a year later. It was a year of movie heaven that was well worth $600.

But I waited forever when it came to DVR, and all the dumb excuses I made for not trashing the VCR and joining the digital revolution -- "there'd be another box in the pile next to the TV," "it's another expense I don't need," "there's mostly crap on TV anyway" -- sound like so much idiotic drivel now that I've got the damn thing plugged into my system. This is a miracle of modern science, one of those things you didn't know you couldn't live without. My god, but this is the most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen in my entire geeky life.

I acquired a digital video recorder from my cable company, which, it turns out, means that I did not have to add to the teetering pile of electronic boxes next to the TV. I merely swapped out my old cable box for a new one with DVR built in, and -- duh: not sure why I hadn't thought of this before -- I could remove the VCR and hide it away somewhere. Until I need to tape something off the DVR for a DVR-less friend who missed an episode of Lost or House. (I may not have been an early adopter of DVR, but I'm far from the last one, either.)

So: wow. Flipping around the channel guide, pressing a button -- one single button -- and the entire upcoming season of Battlestar Galactica will save itself for posterity (or at least until I run out of room on the DVR's hard drive) so I can watch it at my leisure. No more scrounging around for videotapes and hoping I don't tape over last night's Daily Show. No more forgetting to set the VCR to record Doctor Who when I go out with friends on a Friday night. I have achieved television nirvana. I am set free from confining network schedules. I am at peace with the entertainment universe.

When I went to the Cablevision store to trade in my old cable box and pick up the DVR box, the guy behind the counter asked, "HD, or regular?" I laughed. "Regular," I said. "HD is my next toy ... but not yet." I don't have room for a bigger TV, and it'd be another expense I don't need, they'll be better and cheaper next year ....

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
MaryAnn Johanson
author of The Totally Geeky Guide to The Princess Bride
minder of FlickFilosopher.com

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