I loathe television, I really, truly do. This hasn't always been the case, and recently I've been asking myself why I've come to develop such a prejudice against America's favorite pasttime.
When we were in college, my husband and I often stayed in his room at his parent's house. It had a small (maybe 9 inch) television in it, which he never turned on. His family had never had anything beyond basic cable, and he didn't seem to have any desire to turn on the television--at least not while in his room. If we wanted to watch something, we usually did that in the family living area as a group.
This was so not the case at my house. In our home, there was no television in the central living area after my parents' divorce. Instead, my mother, brother, and I each had a television in our own room with satellite, DVR, and just about every channel you can imagine. My television was the smallest of these, sitting at just 19 inches. A typical evening went like this: My brother and I got off the bus, each dropped our stuff, and went to our own rooms. Once inside, we would turn on or respective televisions and stay there. The end.
I was puzzled by Brian's family's lack of interest in television, but I was busy with college and didn't really have time for tv anyway. When I moved into the dorm, I brought my 19 inch television, but I can't remember turning it on more than once or twice in my entire two-year tenure in the dorms.
When my husband and I moved out on our own, it was his suggestion that we give up television all together. We were moving to an area where no local channels existed, and satellite was just too expensive to consider. I was ok with this, but really wanted a television in the bedroom so that we could watch DVDs. To my suprise, Brian was staunchly opposed to having any kind of television in the bedroom. We compromised and put one television in the living room. For the next two years we lived without television, only watching DVDs occasionally (usually when we were home sick from work or when we both wanted to watch a season of our former favorite shows).
The change in our lives was amazing. All of a sudden we had all of this wonderful time on our hands. I started to bake, we did arts and crafts, books were read--we were hooked! Soon we discovered audio books, and those were played in the evenings on the speaker system in lieu of DVDs. Brian would sit with the animals and listen to the latest book I had wanted him to read and I would cook or crochet and listen, too. We liked our quiet little life.
When we moved back in with Brian's parents to take jobs closer to the city, we moved into a home with a television. Still, there was only basic cable, so I figured the television would play a limited role in our daily lives. Not so.
The television in the Kendrick household is on from the moment my nephews wake up in the morning until the moment everyone leaves. Within fifteen minutes of arriving home, my father-in-law has turned the damned thing on again. Usually the programs they choose are educational, but I hate it. The house is never quiet. Conversations are held during commercial breaks. Dinner is eaten in silence around the television.
We do not have a television in our room at all. Our DVDs are in storage, and are likely to remain there. When we move out, I'm contemplating whether we will have a television at all--for DVDs or otherwise. How strange am I? Does anyone else harbor deep resentment for the talking picture box?
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