Every Tuesday night everything stops in our house. We have a schedule every Tuesday at 9pm to put away everything and watch the Curse of Oak Island. It’s the only show my husband watches and I try to let him enjoy this time but this means everything stops. Like if we were thinking about having some “us” time, if would be planned to be before this show. I would not be part of the planning.
So ok. I get it. He enjoys this show but the more I watch this show, the more I’m convinced there isn’t any treasure and these people are digging up an entire island to discover some stupid wooden beams. I bet some asshat hundreds of years ago decided I’m going to bury these beams here so some poor chump finds them and thinks it is tied to something important.
I want these guys to find something at this point because my husband is so invested I’m not sure how he’ll handle it ending without a large discovery. I’ve observed him talking loudly to the tv during this show in frustration when they alomst found something.
These men, on this little island, are spending millions of dollars digging up the whole damn place in hopes of finding treasure. And every week they might find a piece of wood or piece of metal or a coin. The big nights are when they find a bobby-dazzler. (Yeh, i know, wtf.) And people are hooked. I mean if my husband is watching, I know many others are too. Say something to any man over the age of 35 and wait. I bet 80% of them are watching this show.
And when I say watching I mean so much more.
They are not just watching. They are passionate.
They can spout of historical information that could have something to do with this island. They know more about historical events in Nova Scotia than ever before. They spew numbers and facts, and never omit that someone else must die before that treasure is found. It’s like a cult following. They drank the koolaid and put on their purple jumpsuits and are waiting for the spaceship to arrive.
The producers and the History Channel are making a killing in viewers and ratings and yet these Lagina brothers haven’t really found anything.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s interesting. But how long is this going to go on? We sit here and watch grown men say it could be this…but we aren’t sure, so let’s go dig another hole.
How long does my husband have to endure this torture. I actually feel bad for him. He waits and waits for something substantial, Tuesday after Tuesday. *sigh*
So here we sit waiting for 9pm, watching all the prior episodes in anticipation of a new discovery. Every once in a while my husband repeats the narrator’s last phrase. Always to me. Always more than once. I’m not sure what response he wants, but this show is starting to get to me.
I refuse to drink the koolaid.
I refuse to wear the purple jumpsuit and prepare to be taken by aliens.
I refuse to believe next week will be something other than the men talking and digging.
I want to go to these diggers and say, “I will take the money. I will even dig you some holes. I mean you have millions, just dig the whole damn place up. Don’t be drilling little holes here and there, guessing and hoping to find something. LET’S BLOW THIS M-F-ER UP.”
I’m no miner or treasure seeking expert but I bet I could save these Lagina guys a ton of cash.
Blow the whole thing to smithereens! Now that’d be worth watching.
I hope I am wrong and I hope they find something. I want to be wrong. For the sake of all these men who are sitting on their couch, hoping.
They say one more must die before they find the treasure…
At this point, I hope it’s not him or me, but probability is rising. I mean just blow it all up already !