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He heard me mention that I hadn’t turned on a TV, not even in a hotel, in weeks, and he’d read enough of my columns to know there is no warm place in my heart or mind for television. The growing evidence that TV severely damages mental, moral, and cultural development in young, growing minds concerns him. He has small children. His TV is on all day. The TV is on all day because his wife likes having it on all the time. She does not share her husband’s fears that the relentless video assault on their children’s growing brains might cripple their ability to think clearly and relate normally to other people. He is an airline pilot and is away from home half the time, and he worries. He wonders how he can reduce his family’s exposure to TV without being home every day and without starting a war. It is a subject upon which I am not without ideas and opinions. I asked where in the house the TV is and how big it is. It’s in the main living room, of course, just as it is in most homes. How big is the screen? It’s not one of those monsters that are becoming popular these days, but it’s not small. There are two easy ways to cut down on TV viewing without depriving anyone of what some devoutly defend as “good programs.” I f you’re trying to reduce intake of candy, you don’t leave a dish of it out in plain sight in a room you spend lots of time in. You hide it. You know where it is and you can get at it easily, but it’s not a flag in your face every time you pass by. The first thing to do is get the TV out of the living room, out of the central living and socializing area of the house. Put it in a room that is seldom used. A spare bedroom is ideal. Don’t overdo the isolation. If you put it in a cold, dark corner of the basement, it won’t stay there. The idea is not to make watching TV uncomfortable. All you need to do is make it a wee bit inconvenient. Out of sight, out of mind. O ur TV——yes, there is one in my house——is upstairs in the loft. It’s out of sight behind cabinet doors until someone wants to watch it. It’s not visible from anywhere in the house except the loft. You have to go upstairs, and even then you can’t see the TV at first. You have to walk nearly the length of the loft and look back at it. Our loft is a second living room, not a dark, dusty storage space. It’s a comfortable place to read, sit with a cup of tea and look out the windows at the sunrise. Or watch TV. If the TV were in our main living room, I’d watch it anytime I was in the room and it was on. The only way to avoid it would be to leave that room that is the center of our living area. The second thing to do is trade in the big screen for a small one. Really small, say, six or seven inches maximum. All the information that a big screen displays is on the small screen. You have to sit closer to see it, but it’s all there. Years ago, I had an out-of-town weekend job and I slept Saturday nights on a friend’s couch in his rec room. I’d arrive after midnight, turn on the TV with the sound low, and watch whatever was on for an hour or so while my brain spun down for sleep. One weekend, their color TV was in the shop and they had a very small, black-and-white loaner. I turned it on as usual, and, after a few minutes, realized I hadn’t the slightest idea what I’d been watching. I turned it off and went right to sleep. A TV screen is like a whirlpool. The bigger it is, the harder it sucks. You can walk right past a tiny TV and not even feel its pull, but if a huge glass eye is blinking seductively in the visual center of the living room, it is impossible to ignore. I told the man these things. He’s going to try to talk his wife into giving it a try. I’m eager to learn how it turns out. Stay tuned, if you’ll pardon the expression. |