Two of our adult children no longer have televisions in their homes. This is a good thing for their families, a great thing in fact. But Bernie and I are retired and the nest has been empty for a long time and, well, there isn’t that much to do in the evening. We could talk, but that is our morning activity. No, really, we have lots to say to eachother in the morning. But it seems the hours take a toll on our brains by evening. As the day comes to a close, Bernie likes to work puzzles and I usually have a needlework project to keep my hands busy. We tend to do these activities sitting in our matching recliners before the television. There are a few worthwhile programs that we enjoy that cover, perhaps, 6 hours of watching the tube per week. I’d say that is about .5% of the programing that we pay for.
Here is the thing. If the television programs between the few that we really like were at least tolerable, that might be acceptable. But they are awful, downright torturous. It feels abusive to be subject to some of the stuff. Reality TV bores me to death. The only exception is when my son’s family had a documentary done about them. But really, those are my grandchildren you are talking about. As for the rest, I think my life is interesting enough without delving into other people’s mundanity.
I am not sure what the category’s proper name is, but I tire of the shows where people compete as they dance and sing. We have enjoyed one type of musical competition, a cappella singing. But even that can get long and grueling as the pain and sob stories of the performers are brought in to make the shows more appealing.
Last night we decided to try two sitcoms that we’d never seen before. “If we like them,” I told Bernie, maybe we could extend our TV enjoyment to 8 hours per week”. The shows were so-called comedies: “The Big Bang Theory” and “Rules of Engagement”. I almost called 911.