There are very few ugly people on soap operas

Welcome to my column, where you won't have to buy a converter box to read the high-definition version.

Yes sir, you will get the hi-def version at no extra charge even when the mandatory column switchover to the new clear, sharper, crisper and perhaps even more clever columns begin appearing around the first of the year.

You probably won't even notice a difference between the new hi-def columns and the regular column versions like this one because we will introduce our new hi-def versions a little at a time each week, so by the time the complete switchover occurs, you will already be acclimated to the new and improved columns and won't get a headache from us throwing all that new hi-tech type at you all at once.

No converters, no fuss, no muss, no problems, no converters, no cable hookups, no knobs or dials or annoying electronic devices to try to figure out. No extra remote control to misplace. Nothing complicated, just a hi-def newspaper without the trouble and headaches of the hi-def converter boxes.

OK, it was a poor attempt at humor and I'm sorry I brought it up. Of course, you know there's no such thing as a high-definition newspaper, right?

But all kidding aside, let's get to the topic of this week's column, which is … soap operas.

I touched on this briefly a couple of weeks ago when I mentioned how my wife would trade me in for a pair of old sweat socks if I ever tried to interfere with her watching her "stories."

You know, it's amazing how long this "stories" thing has been going on. I can remember when momma used to talk about her "stories." She sometimes would needle me about watching sports all the time and when she did, I would cleverly retort by referring to her seeming addiction to her "stories." I figured she could dish it out, I would see if she could take it.

"That will teach her," I smirked. "So what if she gets mad. It's not like I need her for anything."

Yeah, right - except for, oh, I don't know - food, clothing and shelter.

What was I thinking? Good thing she had a sense of humor.

But I have never seen the attraction of the "stories" thing. I know my wife is a devoted fan of the one they call "The Young and the Restless" and I've glanced at it from time to time and I've noticed that not all of them are young although they do all seem to indeed be quite restless, some much more restless than others.

I actually tried to get interested in this show just because my wife likes it so much. Why not? I mean, sometimes she tries stuff I like. She did go fishing with me that one time and - I'm not making this up — she caught a 10-pound bass. And that might have bothered some lesser-adjusted men. Some of them might have felt emasculated by their wife "out-fishing" them even though he had been fishing all his life and she hadn't been fishing since, let's see, oh yeah - NEVER!

But not me.

I wasn't threatened by it. I was happy for her. Just because I came home and burned my tackle box and rods and reels doesn't mean I wasn't happy for her.

But I wanted to learn more about this soap opera thing so I could, you know, show her I had an open mind. (NOTE HERE TO MEN WHO MIGHT HAVE THIS SAME IDEA: If you open your mind too much, your brain might fall out, so be very careful.)

So when she watched a recent version of the show that I recorded for her (I set the DVD recorder for her because she doesn't know how - HAH, I guess that 10-pound bass ain't helping you now, is it baby?) I watched it with her and asked questions.

Here's briefly how that conversation went: ME: "Who's that guy?" SHE: "That's the guy whose wife died." ME: "Oh, I see. Did he kill her?" SHE: "No. Sh-h-h-h! ME: "OK, who's that guy?"

SHE: "He's the guy who runs the magazine."

ME: "Magazine? Holy buckets! You mean there's a magazine in this show? Don't tell me. Let me guess. It's a fishing magazine, right? No wonder you like this show."

She gave me the "that's not funny" look, more commonly referred to in some circles as "the stink eye."

ME: "I'm sorry, I was just trying to be humor …" SHE: "Will you hush; I'm trying to watch this." ME: "Ooh. That guys looks evil. Is he the villain?" SHE: "No. He's one of the good guys." ME: "Oh, c'mon. I find that hard to believe." SHE: "Well, he is; he's one of the nice guys." ME: "Well, he LOOKS evil."

SHE: "Sh-h-h-h!"

ME: "Can I go do something else while you watch the rest of this?"

SHE: "I think that's an EXCELLENT idea."

Hey, at least I tried. But I couldn't follow what was going on. There were too many characters. And they all acted very strangely. They'd just be sitting there and all at once one of them would take a swing at another one, or they would just start taking their clothes off for no apparent good reason.

And is it just me, or are all the people on these shows very attractive? Nobody's cheating on their spouse with an ugly person and all the women wake up in the morning with their hair done and their makeup just right. Everybody looks just great, all the time. I haven't seen one booger or anybody with broccoli stuck between their teeth.

I don't get it. I'm just going to stop thinking about it.

Wonder what we're eating this evening.

ME (YELLING INTO THE OTHER ROOM): "Honey, what are we having for dinner?"

SHE (YELLING BACK): "Fish."

Naturally.

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com) is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger.