The other day I came home from work, looked around the house at the things I could be doing, sighed, and plopped down on the sofa.
I have to avoid this, because once I'm down it's for the rest of the evening. So what happened? I didn't do the laundry that I should have, I made dinner and we used paper plates. (sin!) It was that blasted People's Court. It's like addictive crack for "I shouldabeen a lawyer" people like me. Especially when there are landlord/tenant disputes. I'm always right on point with Judge Milian, usually making my own ruling at the commercial breaks.
So the next morning, I'm fuming. My laundry wasn't done and my son wanted to wear his Pirate's jersey. I notice a thin layer of dust on the coffee table, and a crumb from dinner. Along with the paper plates, we ate in the living room glued to the tube. My God. On the way out the door, I spot the book I'm supposed to be reading, Cannery Row, one of the few Steinbeck books I've yet to enjoy, sitting there untouched. I haven't even read the preface, but I sure could sit and watch three hours of television the night before! For shame, for shame!
At work, I started thinking about my laundry that is still sitting in the basket, the dust on the coffee table, and that ridiculous crumb, and I fight off the urge to fake a sore throat and run home. I'm certain somewhere from his grave I hear Steinbeck yelling... "you've have that book for two weeks! TWO WEEKS! And you haven't even read the preface!" I have a pretty important project I'm working on with a deadline, so that fortunately prevented me from leaving work.
The next evening at home, I looked that that television with such disgust. Curses, the temptation! Wonder what's going on in the courtroom today?
But, alas, I instead flip on the radio, send TJ up to his room to pick up his toys, and start the laundry. I'm in the middle of some redecorating at home, so there are shelves, pictures, and other such nonsense scattered throughout the living and dining room. I'm at a complete standstill with that stuff right now, I just can't get the right grouping. But I did dust, de-crumb, and otherwise catch up on my housework, for the most part. And we ate from real dishes, at the dinner table. As menial moments through out the course of my day often do, the prior evening of unabashed abandon with the TV got me to thinking how much of a waste television can be, and in so many ways. Financially, for one. Sometimes I truly wish that my husband had a hobby that would keep him occupied after a long day at work. But he loves that TV, and has to have every channel available, the TiVo, the On-Demand, the HD-whatever, and so on. Our bill is roughly $100 a month. A waste.
It's also such a waste of life, sitting there, watching people who get paid, lots of money mind you, to act out fictitious story lines. I believe TV to be the ultimate enemy to one's creativity. There is a flip-side to this argument, however. I enjoy checking out HGTV and The Food Network for ideas that actually fuel creativity, but it's certainly not on a regular basis. And, I do find the History Channel very entertaining. We've been watching their series about America, "The Story of Us", and I am really enjoying that. It's something the three of us watch together.
But all the sports, ESPN (or as I call it, my husband's mistress), the CSI's, the SVU's, the NCIS's, the 24 hours of shopping at home... enough's enough!
Growing up, we had four- yes FOUR channels on our TV. I remember them distinctly, ABC, NBC, CBS and PBS. We had an old-school TV that weighed about 400 pounds and we had to go outside to turn the antenna to get in CBS. And if the weather was bad, forget it. All we could watch was static.
But what I do remember mainly about the lack of TV viewing as a child is that I grew up loving to read. I remember reading my Dad's Franklin Mint, leather bound classics curled up on the recliner. I loved the smell of books. At age 13, I made my way through
Wuthering Heights thinking that was normal behavior for someone my age. In the summer, forget TV. I was outside, up in a tree or down by the creek sitting in my favorite moss patch enjoying the exploits of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.
With the warmer weather approaching, I've decided that the TV will remain off through the week, at least until around 8 or 9 when my husband is home and has to flip on the tube. But you know, that doesn't mean I have to watch it! I've limited my son's viewing as well. If he reads for a 1/2 hour, he can watch TV for a 1/2 hour. I read somewhere that the Obama's only let their daughters watch TV on weekends. I find that occasionally I'll cave as far as my son is concerned, and let him watch mindless dribble long enough for me finish some important task without being bothered. It's a tough decision, but I honestly find that as long as my TV is off, I'm so much more productive, and less cranky.
So, much to my husbands dismay, he can watch all of his TiVo'ed CSI's and 24's without my company. I've just got too much to do. And, in the long run, I think my mind will once again begin to flow with its creative juices, and I'll get my redecorating figured out.
And as for
Hell's Kitchen that starts a new season in June, well... I might have to make that one exception! I mean, my hubby has his love affair with Stewart Scott, why can't I have one with Gordon Ramsey?
And you thought I made them from scratch?? Not a chance! And man, did I get off easy with his birthday dinner!
Rhubarb is tart, a little stringy, and resembles celery, only it's reddish in color. Definitely not something you'd want to pull from your garden, wash off, and bite into. But cooked, sweetened with a little sugar, it's the ultimate in homemade pies. It's especially scrumptious when mixed with strawberries!
