TV
“There
is nothing wrong with your television set.” That’s what the authoritative
male voice behind the sixties hit television show “The Outer Limits”
reassured us. Back then, there really wasn’t
much wrong with our televisions. Our big Zeniths with their wood-grained metal
cases only allowed us to watch in black and white, but “Mr. Ed” didn’t
really need color; no red blood, amber beer, pink lingerie, just black and
white, the colors of innocence, the colors of dreams. When the man said,
“Don’t touch that dial”, we didn’t. Thirty years later, kids still love
television. The “wonder of the century” never did become the center of
learning its early pioneers predicted, but it did become the most powerful
entertainment medium in history, and today’s kids love to be entertained, so
much that they’ll watch nearly anything. That’s why, last month after forty
years of viewing, I finally pulled the plug. I’ve worried that we were
watching too much television, and lately, I found myself blaming the box for
everything from my kids’ declining grades to my inclining girth. Coming home
from work early to find the girls watching Jerry Springer bothered me. Even
after I said no talk shows, the electronic lure was still reeling them in. While
the other kids are away with mom at youth group, Wednesday nights
belong to my youngest and me. We have our time, just a nine-year-old, her
dad, and a TV show starring old friend Drew Carey….who picked a recent show to
sleep with a woman he picked up in a bar while counseling his transsexual
brother who was sleeping with one of Carey’s colorful female employees. As
Drew’s new love leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around him, I found
myself walking right over to the TV and smacking the real ON/OFF button. (A
subliminal, pre-remote control throw-back to the sixties response) I turned
looking at Ben and said, “I’m sorry Buddy, but your mom and I just don’t
believe in that stuff.” “The yuchy sex stuff, you mean?” “Uh huh,” I
answered, “So let’s say we find
something else to do tonight?” Ben pulled out one of her schoolbooks and began
reading to me aloud. “ She’s an excellent reader,” I thought, as she moved
quickly through the pages with real style and personality. By bedtime, we both
agreed that this night had been one of our most enjoyable ever. Don’t
misunderstand please, it hasn’t all been “Little House on the Prairie”
around here as we’re adjusting to our loss. The kids are just now coming out
of shock, and Ellen really misses the morning news. I don’t miss much of it
really, the noises, sex, blood, commercials, just sometimes, the re-runs of
“Mr. Ed.” There was a time when the announcer’s words were innocent and
funny, but now they really do control the horizontal and the vertical; they
control our very lives more than we know…and its time more of us touched that
dial, because there is something very wrong with our televisions.