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Rob's Diary Entries

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August 7, 2000

"I was born in a house with the television always on."
The Talking Heads

Today was our seventh anniversary, (and no, we did not give each other desk sets). By "our" of course I mean Jenny's and mine. We were married August 7, 1993. We celebrated by grilling lobster tails and eating at the dining table with Rowan. Simply the act of all sitting down at the table together was special, as our table is usually covered with papers, books and anything else that needs to be placed out of toddler reach.

Murphy's law of surfaces states that any available work surface will be covered with junk within one week of it's being cleared, regardless of how many such surfaces are available. We usually eat sitting on the couch or on the floor (with Rowan in her high chair, of course). Often, the TV is on as well. Rowan's favorite show is "Blues Clues," which we watch twice a day. When I am home during the day, we shut off the TV and listen to music after that. When Jenny is home though, the TV's default position is "on." I'm not proud of that, but I'm not casting blame or judgment either.

I have a love/hate relationship with the TV. I have recurring fantasies of destroying our TV. It's a big one, so it would go spectacularly. My favorite fantasy involves shooting the screen out, but since I don't own a gun and don't expect to ever purchase one, that's never going to happen. Smashing the screen with a hammer would be fun too, and my latest scene design includes a TV with its screen knocked out. Unfortunately, I was not on hand the day they smashed it. I hear it was a lot of fun.

Now, this being said, I need to make it clear: I watch a lot of TV. Too much, and usually I'm watching things I couldn't care less about, or even things that I find offensive. If the TV is on, I cannot ignore it. I am a trained monkey when it comes to the small screen. Even when I am actively arguing with the program (and I get into some serious debates with the idiot-box), or when I am completely bored with the content, I cannot look away and I cannot tune out the sound. Yesterday I was trying to read a play. I kept reading the same line over and over while a strident voice made specious tarot card readings. I looked over at Jenny, and saw that she was reading too, so I muted the stupid thing.

Well, you bone-head, why don't you just turn it off? Jenny has a very different relationship with the TV. While my mother likes to say that I didn't even know there was a channel besides PBS until I was eight, the TV in Jenny's home was constant background noise. She can read through anything, and likes to have the TV on just for something to keep the silence at bay. Jenny can watch a TV show with one eye and read with the other. It amazes me.

This is why I say I am not judging or blaming. It's not as though Jenny is a mindless TV junkie, she just has a stronger resistance to its siren call, and a greater affection for its company. She simply tunes it out when it's not relevant. We'll be sitting together on the couch watching, and I'll turn to her to make a comment (usually snide) about an ad that's just run, and Jenny will say, "What are you talking about?" She blocks the signal automatically when she's not interested. I sincerely cannot do that.

Of course, I think we both also use TV as a way to avoid doing other things we should be doing. I know I would be a wealthy man if I had a dollar for every time I have sat and watched something stupid instead of writing. It's just easier, and even as I do it, I know I'm cheating myself. Writing is hard, particularly for someone with a touch of LD (dysgraphia, I suspect, but my worthless sixth-grade learning resources teacher never really gave my mother or me any very useful help or information, so that's just a guess).

I dream of having a study in a room that is too far away to hear the TV, but that will have to wait until we can afford a bigger place. Sometimes listening to music on my headphones helps (instrumental only, as any lyrics will distract me from my own reading or writing) but that doesn't completely eliminate the voices that beg me to come over and see what they're talking about.

So that is why I hate the TV, and love it too. I worry about Rowan's TV exposure as well. I don't really think it's going to dumb her down, as Jenny and I are both very into deconstructing the messages carried in on cable. This dialectical exercise is part of our regular viewing activity, and we look forward to teaching Rowan the skill. Still, what if she takes after me, and can't get her mind to focus anywhere else when the TV is on? What if ... I don't know.

I just know that I was raised to hold television in contempt (my father allowed even less TV than my mother did), and yet I have grown to crave it beyond all reason. Religion may once have been the opiate of the people (so said Karl Marx), but now it's TV. I love my TV, and the shows I watch regularly are ones that I believe have genuine merit, but it's like a salesman with his foot in the door. Once it has your attention, it won't give let you go without a fight. I want to raise Rowan like I was raised, but perhaps the kind of inoculation to mass media that Jenny received as a child is actually more effective at reducing the power of TV?



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