I remember that, long ago, when my parents and I still lived in a minuscule studio before either of my siblings were born, my parents owned a television. It was a pretty, rounded, white enamel box with rabbit ear antennas and three shiny metal buttons on the top. The images were in black and white. I remember my parents watching the news and political commentary, but all I cared about (in typical three-year-old fashion) was the Sunday night Looney Tunes. I remember sitting on the old couch between my parents, in front of the ancient trunk that served as our tea-table.
When we moved to a bigger (but still quite small apartment) when Sis was born, we left the television behind. A friend of my parents' loaned us his television for some time, as he was moving. This one had a color screen and sat in the corner of the living room, atop the cornerpiece that held the old newspapers. Every Sunday night, we would sit on the floor and watch Looney Tunes like we had for (it seemed like) years (several months at least). One day, before the year was out, the friend took his television back.
That was the last time we "owned" a television.
My grandparents on my father's side have always had an old set in the living room, on which Sis and I (and occasionally Bro, although he was too young at the time) would watch nature shows. The good kind of nature show. Not the kind with annoying "explorers" who constantly talk to the camera and come up with cutesy names for the animals and make stupid commentary like "Oh, look! It looks like Toto smelled something. He lifts up his head... He's walking. See his feet? Yeah, he's definitely walking. It's a baby antelope! He's going to hunt it! Oh no! He's running now! And... and... he catches it! Did you see that? (camera swivels to person) He killed the poor baby antelope!" No, not that kind of show. The ones where a disembodied voice speaks maybe ten percent of the time and the rest is beautiful filmwork that speaks for itself and captures Nature in action. The ones where, if some cute and fluffy animal dies, the voice proclaims "Such is the law of the jungle."
When we moved to the US, seven years later, we rented a house from a family that had gone on a sabbatical to Madison, Wisconsin. They had a TV. I was still too young to care much about the news and all that grown-up stuff, but I clearly remember when, on September 11th, 2001, I came home from school with a big smile on my face because I would celebrate my eleventh birthday the following day and found the usually blank and silent TV on. I didn't speak enough English then to understand what the news announcers were saying. I hadn't been able to read the letter handed to us at the end of that day by solemn teachers. But I very clearly remember a woman's voice from inside a shop, screaming "You saved my life!" to the shop owner, who had prevented her from running outside as the towers collapsed and dust and debris filled the streets and darkened the windows. For a month, the image of the planes crashing into the towers were the only thing in the news.
Then, as far as I could tell, it went back to normal. The problem is, "normal" means "Breaking News!" banners scrolling at the top of the screen, random newsbits scrolling at the bottom, images flashing on the sides, and reporters vapidly commenting on some celebrity scandal or other. Dad watched the news every once in a while, but we mostly used the TV to watch movies on the VCR.
The next year, we rented another house from people who had gone on sabbatical to Beijing, China. They, too (like 99.99% of American households) (I feel sort of proud to be in that 0.01%) had a television. My parents watched the news more regularly, we watched rental movies on Saturday nights, and late at night Dad watched this strange show called "Friends" (he denies it, but I can't tell him I saw him watching it when I was sneaking around in the hallway because I was supposed to be in bed at that time) (I have since been shanghaied by my friends into watching a couple of episodes with them, turns out it's actually not that bad).
Two years later, after a TV-less stint back in Paris, we somehow ended up in the US again, in yet another house, from people who had gone on a sabbatical to Germany. Dad watched the most TV, adding Antiques Roadshow and several BBC programs to his list. We continued our Saturday night movie nights, and sometimes Nature on Sundays, until all of the shows turned out to be of the "Oooooh look, a fuzzy bunny rabbit!" kind. Dad and I would sometimes watch British murder mysteries together.
And THEN we bought the house next door and have been living there ever since. We have no television. When we want to watch a movie, we pull the couch in front of the computer screen and watch that movie. When Dad wants to watch the news, he watches the France 2 news broadcast on the Internet (unfortunately, even it is becoming increasingly Americanized).
Now, I'm in college. With a roommate who has a television. It is constantly on, and I have the great displeasure of having countless idiotic shows pounded into my brain day in and day out. Talk shows are obnoxious, series moronic, reality TV cretinous, "news" revolting... Some montrosity called the "Tyra Banks show" in particular makes me fume. That woman is idiotic, vacuous, bigoted, shallow... I could go on and on. Even important events are corrupted by this TV culture of stupidity. When I watched the Inauguration on January 20th, MSNBC had the callousness of having "professional commentators" "comment" during Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Gabriella Montero, and Anthony McGill's performance. During. An actual. Performance. We couldn't hear any of the music. (Eventually, I watched the clip with the music on the Internet that night, so at least I got to hear it.) What's more, broadcasters seem to have the need to supplant every three minutes of programming with five minutes of advertising.
I can't wait to get back home and spend my day outside, throwing bread at the ducks and mud at my brother to come back home, drink a cup of hot cocoa, and read a book. Yes, a book. You know, those things with sheets of paper that have words on them?
***
Sorry, that was a rather spiteful rant. I do mean all of it, though.
When we moved to a bigger (but still quite small apartment) when Sis was born, we left the television behind. A friend of my parents' loaned us his television for some time, as he was moving. This one had a color screen and sat in the corner of the living room, atop the cornerpiece that held the old newspapers. Every Sunday night, we would sit on the floor and watch Looney Tunes like we had for (it seemed like) years (several months at least). One day, before the year was out, the friend took his television back.
That was the last time we "owned" a television.
My grandparents on my father's side have always had an old set in the living room, on which Sis and I (and occasionally Bro, although he was too young at the time) would watch nature shows. The good kind of nature show. Not the kind with annoying "explorers" who constantly talk to the camera and come up with cutesy names for the animals and make stupid commentary like "Oh, look! It looks like Toto smelled something. He lifts up his head... He's walking. See his feet? Yeah, he's definitely walking. It's a baby antelope! He's going to hunt it! Oh no! He's running now! And... and... he catches it! Did you see that? (camera swivels to person) He killed the poor baby antelope!" No, not that kind of show. The ones where a disembodied voice speaks maybe ten percent of the time and the rest is beautiful filmwork that speaks for itself and captures Nature in action. The ones where, if some cute and fluffy animal dies, the voice proclaims "Such is the law of the jungle."
When we moved to the US, seven years later, we rented a house from a family that had gone on a sabbatical to Madison, Wisconsin. They had a TV. I was still too young to care much about the news and all that grown-up stuff, but I clearly remember when, on September 11th, 2001, I came home from school with a big smile on my face because I would celebrate my eleventh birthday the following day and found the usually blank and silent TV on. I didn't speak enough English then to understand what the news announcers were saying. I hadn't been able to read the letter handed to us at the end of that day by solemn teachers. But I very clearly remember a woman's voice from inside a shop, screaming "You saved my life!" to the shop owner, who had prevented her from running outside as the towers collapsed and dust and debris filled the streets and darkened the windows. For a month, the image of the planes crashing into the towers were the only thing in the news.
Then, as far as I could tell, it went back to normal. The problem is, "normal" means "Breaking News!" banners scrolling at the top of the screen, random newsbits scrolling at the bottom, images flashing on the sides, and reporters vapidly commenting on some celebrity scandal or other. Dad watched the news every once in a while, but we mostly used the TV to watch movies on the VCR.
The next year, we rented another house from people who had gone on sabbatical to Beijing, China. They, too (like 99.99% of American households) (I feel sort of proud to be in that 0.01%) had a television. My parents watched the news more regularly, we watched rental movies on Saturday nights, and late at night Dad watched this strange show called "Friends" (he denies it, but I can't tell him I saw him watching it when I was sneaking around in the hallway because I was supposed to be in bed at that time) (I have since been shanghaied by my friends into watching a couple of episodes with them, turns out it's actually not that bad).
Two years later, after a TV-less stint back in Paris, we somehow ended up in the US again, in yet another house, from people who had gone on a sabbatical to Germany. Dad watched the most TV, adding Antiques Roadshow and several BBC programs to his list. We continued our Saturday night movie nights, and sometimes Nature on Sundays, until all of the shows turned out to be of the "Oooooh look, a fuzzy bunny rabbit!" kind. Dad and I would sometimes watch British murder mysteries together.
And THEN we bought the house next door and have been living there ever since. We have no television. When we want to watch a movie, we pull the couch in front of the computer screen and watch that movie. When Dad wants to watch the news, he watches the France 2 news broadcast on the Internet (unfortunately, even it is becoming increasingly Americanized).
Now, I'm in college. With a roommate who has a television. It is constantly on, and I have the great displeasure of having countless idiotic shows pounded into my brain day in and day out. Talk shows are obnoxious, series moronic, reality TV cretinous, "news" revolting... Some montrosity called the "Tyra Banks show" in particular makes me fume. That woman is idiotic, vacuous, bigoted, shallow... I could go on and on. Even important events are corrupted by this TV culture of stupidity. When I watched the Inauguration on January 20th, MSNBC had the callousness of having "professional commentators" "comment" during Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Gabriella Montero, and Anthony McGill's performance. During. An actual. Performance. We couldn't hear any of the music. (Eventually, I watched the clip with the music on the Internet that night, so at least I got to hear it.) What's more, broadcasters seem to have the need to supplant every three minutes of programming with five minutes of advertising.
I can't wait to get back home and spend my day outside, throwing bread at the ducks and mud at my brother to come back home, drink a cup of hot cocoa, and read a book. Yes, a book. You know, those things with sheets of paper that have words on them?
***
Sorry, that was a rather spiteful rant. I do mean all of it, though.
2 comments:
I watch nature programmes, antiques, motor sport, quizzes and the occasional soccer - usually on my computer while doing something else. Interestingly when I stayed for a month or so with GB last year I think we only watched about three hours of TV - a Formula One Grand Prix (why did we bother?)and two Wild China programmes which turned out to be one of the best travel / wildlife programnes I've ever seen.
I think one of the problems with TV is if it's there you will often watch it but if it isn't you don't miss it.
SS has done it again. You know we think so alike we should be brothers! I bought myself a new large-screen TV for The Cottage a few months ago. I have used it for a few film DVDs and a programme on which I was hooked in Scotland which was mailed to me on DVDs, but, apart from the news, I think it must have cost me several hundred dollars a programme so far. But be without it? Definitely not.
My admiration increases, by the way. You say that you didn't have a command of English in 2001. Yes, in seven years one can be expected to have a command of the language of the culture in which one lives (though how many of the English living in France do?). But to have such a command.
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