As a general rule, I try not to make a habit of hanging out anywhere without a movie theater in throwing distance. I tend not to reside anywhere within two hours of the Canadian border. The only hunting I do requires the use of the original Nintendo Duck Hunt gun and I don’t camp — unless camping out in line for “Phantom Menace” tickets counts.

Cable TV and multiplexes are my water, and pay channels are merely the marshmallows in my hot chocolate — unnecessary, but what self-preserving individual would pass them up, especially with the way HBO is shaping up?

This weekend, I wound up in Northern Minnesota and, while Northern anything is bad news, my uneasiness was only enhanced by the overwhelming presence of orange and camouflage snowsuits. After hypothesizing of a statewide “Dress Like an Idiot Day” (an offspring of Halloween) declared by Governor Ventura, I was reminded that deer season was opening.

That more than explained the overwhelming presence of pickup trucks and car-mounted animal carcasses along the way. I once had a friend who openly despised pickups. Now I know why.

To make a long and rather boring story short, I ended up stuck in Hinckley, Minn., without a thing to do, nor anyone with whom to do it. As a last resort in a situation where my alternatives included hiking over to the local geriatric clinic/casino or hanging out at the local Burger King — a more popular activity than one would assume amongst the local youths — I chose to lounge around my hotel room and latch on to that last ditch form of entertainment that we have appropriately labeled “the boob tube”.

I think it’s fair to say that I am more than comfortable with my opportunity costs, but still ashamed in my decision-making skills. I always could have picked up a rifle and shells at the local WalMart and joined the hunt ? but that’s not my style.

What I discovered — and no, this is not yet another resurrected “Box is Hot” corpse — is that television does indeed hold some redeeming qualities. Mind you, not many, but a few. In no particular order, I hereby present that list — a short register of excuses for being caught watching that inferior magic screen we call television.

1. Conan O’Brien: Andy Richter realized he was stuck in a black hole on the wasteland that is late night television and someday soon the Abbott to his Costello will as well. Until then, one is always excused for watching TV if Conan’s on.

2. Condensed crap: For every two-bit buddy cop or mega-event film (this weekend it was “Rush Hour”), there is a streamlined version that runs on cable TV for the cost of a smile — nothing. Save your money and the awful embarrassment of being seen at one of these and watch in horror in the confinement of your own home.

* As a note, according to McDonald’s, smiles are free. Check out the menu some time.

3. Bravo’s “Inside the Actor’s Studio”: This weekend was Kevin Kline. Wow.

4. Syndicated “America’s Funniest Home Videos”: In a bind, you can always watch your own home videos, but its so much funnier and far less painful when other people get kicked in the groin.

5. Comedy Central Friars’ Club Roasts: Wouldn’t stand-up comedy be infinitely better if comics were allowed only two minutes to pack in their most hard-hitting cracks? And aren’t they funnier when they pick on audience members or media whipping posts? I’ve never liked stand-up — not even “Eddie Murphy Raw” — but this is some funny shite.

6. That little plug on the back called a coaxial cable. There are better things than cable television that you can plug in there, you know. Such as a VCR. Or, for those of us who accept technology rather than shun it, a DVD player.

And that’s it. Aside from moderate doses of ESPN, there is no other adequate excuse for watching television. Except for the occasional Super Bowl, Oscar Awards presentation, hard-hitting news coverage, video game, etc., etc. ? Of course, if you’re stuck in Hinckley, Minnesota, anything goes.