Put down the remote and back away slowly. We’re already three days into the 2004 “TV-Turnoff Week” and there’s no time to lose!
This is the 10th year that millions of people nationwide have pledged to avoid television for an entire week, no peeking, no TiVo. There’s still time to catch up, just don’t watch twice as much TV for a couple of days.
In the beginning television seemed harmless. It saved us the trouble of making our own entertainment, a real labor-saver for those of us without our own recording studios or ready access to dynamite. We considered TV to be just another appliance, like an oven that played show tunes, but soon it was telling us what to wear and eat and buy, how to cast our vote, and what sorts of people were really attractive (answer: not us).
Now here we are. Blubbery buttocks barely wedged into a couch, we gaze adoringly at our high-definition lover, mindlessly absorbing anything our lord and master television deigns to grant us. At least I do.
But it’s time to cast away our chains and walk outside in the sunshine, heads high, minds relatively unfogged! Just to give you an idea of the joys of exercising self-control over your remote control, here’s the journal I kept during last year’s “TV-Turnoff Week.”
Day One: After ceremonially turning off the TV our family actually talked during breakfast, reacquainting ourselves with each other. This is incredible! Turns out I have two kids. Played some touch football before dinner and then talked about school and our community. Afterwards we shared our dreams and goals for the future.
Day Two: A little rougher today, but I’m still confident. Teresa has been wonderfully supportive and the kids truly understand the values of living life without television, although I did catch my youngest trying to rewire his GameBoy to pick up the Cartoon Network. That scamp!
Day Three: Busted the kids watching display TVs in Wal-Mart, but a long talk and a quick game of Monopoly set them right. Must remember to nail their windows shut before I go to bed.
Day Four: Our local cable representative leapt out of our bushes this morning with a portable TV and tried to lure me back with the secret ending of “24.” I dashed my coffee into my own eyes and got away, finally losing her when I hit the interstate.
Day Five: The children have built up a tolerance to the methadone but I found some rope in the garage. I’m feeling the strain myself; I called my wife “Regis” last night. I don’t think she noticed, she just kept stroking her Johnny Depp DVDs and rocking in place, over and over.
Day Six: We’ve been taking turns guarding the breaker box with a shotgun. I suspect the kids will try a nighttime assault this time, but we’ll be ready. It’s cold here, so very cold…
Day Seven: I am become a being of pure energy, possessing crystalline clarity of thought and insight. Already I have discovered a limitless source of clean power, deduced the nature of matter, space and time, and solved the problem of peace in the Middle East. I’ll write them down later, the stars are singing to me.
Day Eight: Something… happened… maybe. I don’t remember much, just a celestial chorus and a fading white light, probably from “Touched By An Angel.” I can’t think about that now, “American Idol” is coming on and tonight the people on “Fear Factor” are going to eat live baby scorpions with ranch dressing.
So turn off your televisions, America, and live! See www.tvturnoff.org for details, and be sure to stock up on rope.