Every convert has one… here’s mine:

It was july of 2000 - I was in New York City to see the culmination of a 2-year odyssey that was the Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band reunion tour. My collegiate pal Hank (from DC) and I (from Philly) travelled up to see the last two shows of the 5-night stand. We met up with this other guy from college, known only as “Shoats”, (because his shoes were as big as boats), who I didn’t really keep in touch with anymore but knew realatively well back in the day.

When we arrived I was introduced to this girl, a friend of Shoats’, called “Swish”, who was also heading to the show. She was one of those mysterious girls who may have been appealing or attractive, but I can’t say for sure. After the show, a bunch of us went back to Swish’s pad to add a few more beers on top of the too many we’d already had, and ended up crashing there that night. To this day there are two things I rememeber about Swish’s apartment: 1) it was the most disgusting apartment I’ve ever set foot in, and 2) she had TiVo.

This place was a nightmare: The floor was barely visible, covered with junk as far as the eye could see. Every room was converted into a bedroom (NYC prices, after all), so there was no common space whatsoever. The kitchen counter and sink was loaded with crusty, food-stained dishes. The bathtub had two inches of black murck that would not drain away. Needless to say, cleaning was not a high priority.

In Swish’s room, however, it was different. Sure, it was dirty, but there was also this crazy device called a TiVo. One of my friends had mentioned something about it to me a while back, but I hadn’t really thought much of it at the time. Howard Stern liked to talk about it I think, but I try to pay as little attention to Howard Stern as possible. When I actually saw Swish blipping (my word for the TiVo sound) through those menus, rewinding live tv, fast forwarding through commercials, however, I was an instant convert. I HAD to have one.

I asked for it for Xmas later that year, and my wonderful mother obliged, including a lifetime subscription (at that time only $200, a bargain since I still use that unit, basically for free)! It started out in my bedroom, since I had roommates and couldn’t risk them screwing up my scheduling, but it is now the coveted centerpiece of my entertainment universe.

TiVo really does change your life — no more commercials, no rushing home to catch your favorite show, no worrying about setting the VCR. It empowers the television user to watch on his or her own terms. I try to explain this to people who don’t have it, but most just dismiss me as another one of those crazy TiVo people. Those I’ve been able to convert, however, usually come back and thank me for turning them on to such a great thing — in fact, one such guy just thanked me earlier today, which got me thinking: I think I owe someone a little bit of gratitude myself.

Thanks Swish, wherever you are. You changed my life.