To: jbe who wrote (36870 ) 5/6/1999 8:28:00 PM From: Dayuhan Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 108807
All Americans watch TV. You do not watch TV. Therefore you are not American. The syllogism may be faulty, but in the perceptions of the masses it holds significant sway. I grew up in a TV-free household; my parents thought it would rot the brain. We read books, and talked a great deal. This doubtless contributed greatly to my intellectual development; it didn't do much for socialization. One of my more acute memories of junior high was a day in which the class was to choose something we had all seen or done, and write something about it. The class immediately settled on the latest episode of "All in the Family", which was then popular. I was forced to publicly admit that I hadn't seen it. When asked why, I had to publicly admit that we had no TV. Not a word was spoken, but from the combined looks of class and teacher it was clear that they were having doubts not only about my Americanism, but also about my planet of origin. A similar incident, in high school, was only peripherally related to TV. A history teacher was reading aloud, anonymously, submitted assignments. He read several, distinguished by brief and simple sentences and a marked lack of polysyllabic words. Then he got to mine. After the first three sentences every head in the class swiveled over and stared straight at me. I realized then why they all thought I was beyond weird: we didn't even speak the same language. A year ago I bought the first TV I've ever owned; I watch it only to exercise editorial control over what others are watching (and the odd soccer game or movie). I can't really comment on the article, as I've never seen any of the shows in question, but I've developed a minor affection for the Cartoon Network, which has been rerunning ancient Mighty Mouse and Popeye episodes. Joey was watching an original Mighty Mouse this morning, in which the evil cat realized the mice liked music, and decided to play pied piper and lead them into the stew pot. The cat grabs his clarinet and starts blowing a la Benny Goodman; the mice dance along, entranced. After Mighty Mouse saves the day he seizes the horn and does his own solo. Musically superb, far beyond the maudlin patheticisms that pass for modern jazz, and even the kids like it. So it's not all bad. Excuse my wandering; it's morning here.