Last week was National Turn Off the TV Week, which is designed to set kids pondering how much of their lives they’re wasting with their eyeballs glued to the tube.
A peripheral repercussion is that the specter of lost ad revenue strikes fear into the hearts of network executives, who launch a counterattack. The “suits” order additional previews of “all new” episodes of our favorite shows to be shown during tube turnoff week. I guess it must work, because nobody I talked to had a clue that TV was busted so children could abandon the couch, play outside, read and drive their parents crazy.
Some teachers ask students to account for how they spent their reclaimed time. Others stress reading and writing programs all week.
My grandson’s school celebrated something called “Young Authors Day” for which I was pressed into service as a reader. I chose “Coyote,” Gerald McDermott’s tale based on a Native American fable about how Blue Coyote had a nose for trouble and always found it. How he wanted to fly with the crows and how he became rude and boastful and the crows took back their feathers and let him fall back to earth. Three groups of first-, second- and third-graders listened wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, then offered their takes on how coyote got into so much trouble and if he learned anything. The consensus was he didn’t. Most of these kids have seen lots of coyotes and crows and saw the fine line between fact and fiction. That was fun.
My personal experience with Turn Off the TV Week was mixed. Certainly it was less traumatic than the news fast I attempted in honor of Andrew Weil’s “8 Weeks to Optimum Health,” but that’s another story.
One can turn off the TV and still get plenty of news, most of it more enlightening than the pap smeared across TV screens with “film at 11.”
News on National Public Radio is superb, in depth, serious, at times humorous and generally delivered by someone who knows what it is they’re saying instead of perky young news readers mispronouncing the names of world leaders. “All Things Considered,” “The California Report,” “The Washington Report,” “Our Ocean World” couldn’t be better. Fair and balanced coverage of stuff we care about sans car chases.
So in case my teacher wants to know how I spent my found time, here it goes.
Monday without the tube was easy. Monday TV is pretty lame, at least until you get to Charlie Rose, whose intelligent and funny interviews shine on KCET at about 11 p.m. and again at 3:30 p.m. the following day.
Instead of watching Jim Lehrer on KCET’s “News Hour,” I listened to NPR while I began cleaning the room where I push words around. My computer was at the Mac Doctor’s place all week, so I cleaned behind and beneath the desk where wires breed and computer gremlins unplug the telephone connection when no one’s looking. I was still hoovering up dust bunnies when “Jeopardy” asked its answers and responded its questions without me. Guess I’ll have to do more crossword puzzles to keep my brain cells from atrophying.
Tuesday was tougher because “NYPD Blue” was “all new,” but who knew? So I started filing clips and stuff. This led to a major reshuffling of file boxes and a minor repositioning of furniture. The result is serene order. I’m so inspired I hang up the new mirror and shelf that’s been leaning on the couch, half unwrapped, since Christmas.
Wednesday I was going to cheat and watch “West Wing” and “Law and Order,” but since I hadn’t seen “NYPD Blue” the night before, I forgot it was Wednesday, and besides, I was deeply engrossed in Al Martinez’s book, “The Last City Room.”
By Thursday, I was slipping out of TV mode. The network suits had cause to worry. Their ratings were falling like dot-com stock prices. I never even missed Sally Fields’ return to “E.R.”
Friday was the real test. “Washington Week in Review,” by far, the best of the talking heads in my view. Oh well, instead I caught “Jazz From Lincoln Center” with Billy Taylor on NPR. Then I finished listening to my latest P.D. James mystery on tape while I filed and pushed the furniture around some more.
Saturday TV is as lame as Monday, so I caught a book show on NPR: Joanne Woodward reading a short story, recollections by the mother of a retarded girl who marries a retarded young man. Powerful, poignant and fiercely funny.
Sunday morning came and went without Charles Osgood’s “Sunday Morning,” Wolf Blitzer, Tim Russert, Sam and Cokie, the Capital Gang and all the political pontificators. Blah, blah, blah. I listened to the opera instead: same intrigue, drama, whining and crying but set to glorious music.
By this time I’m so inspired I get out my Real Goods, Gardeners’ Supply and Alston’s catalogs and order a ton of stuff that will keep me outdoors and away from the tube.
Score at week’s end: books read – 3; books on tape – 2, unabridged; newspapers scanned and partially read – 14; crossword puzzles completed – 21, 2 crumpled in the dust bin; file boxes – 4, emptied and contents resorted; minor repairs, picture hanging and miscellaneous chores – 15; articles and columns clipped and put in string books – 146 (I’m up to June, 1994); photos and negatives filed – just begun when TV Turn-Off Week ended. The fact is I’m on a roll. Feeling a bit smug, like Blue Coyote. I don’t think I’ll go back to the TV routine just yet, except possibly just for “Jeopardy.” Got to keep nudging those brain cells.