It happens every time I travel. I come back to my hotel room, flop into a freshly made bed, pick up the (probably sticky) black remote, and turn on the TV. I’m given the option to mortgage my home to watch a just-out-of-theaters movie, aimlessly surf through a bunch of local and basic cable channels, or take my chances with whatever’s on HBO. I flip through the 28 or so channels for about a half hour, and settle on some offshoot of Storage Wars before I go to sleep.
The Roku Streaming...
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