What's On? Beats Me
I don't watch a lot of TV anymore.
Mainly because I don't know when anything is on.
It's all there, and yet it isn't--the television at my disposal.
I watch sports, mainly because I know when the games are played, and thus when they're being shown on the telly.
I used to know when my favorite TV shows were on.
Now, I have no clue when anything is on. And I don't have the time or the patience to bother finding out, I guess.
My mother is far more TV savvy than I am. She has favorite shows, some of which sound terrific, if only I knew when they were being broadcast.
But she knows, and since she's sans a DVR or TiVo, that means she has to plunk her butt on the chair and tune in, as scheduled.
And she does. Apparently.
There was a time, before cables invaded our homes, when I knew darn well when the "good shows" were on.
You only had to keep track of ABC, CBS, and NBC, you know.
Next time you see someone under the age of 30, tell them that once there were only three major networks, plus some UHF tiny TV tots.
Then have a camera ready, and snap their expression after you tell them this.
So ABC had Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley and Fantasy Island. NBC had Columbo and MacMillan and Wife and Laugh-In.
Ahh, then there was CBS. My favorite.
M*A*S*H.
The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
Carol Burnett.
All in the Family.
The Bob Newhart Show.
Saturday night was the best.
Moore, Burnett, Newhart, Archie Bunker.
They don't make TV schedules like that anymore!
Heck, they don't make TV shows like that anymore.
Point being, I knew when to tune in to all of the above. ALL of the above.
This is before VCRs, even. So if you missed a show, you missed it. Tough.
Until the rerun came around, several months hence.
Now there are hundreds of channels, literally. I'm sure some of them even present something worth watching.
But I'll be darned if I know when.
I knew when Mary and friends were on, without fail
One of the culprits is the multiple showing. On the surface, it's a grand idea by programmers: replay episodes throughout the week so that the Neilsen families may watch in case they missed them originally.
But the result, to me, is simply more confusion.
If Show A is on at 8:00 p.m. on Thursdays, then I can train my brain to remember that. I'm pretty sure.
But if Show A is also on at 9:00 on Friday, 2 a.m. on Sunday, and noon on Monday, then you've lost me.
Give me one viewing to remember, and if I forget, shame on me.
Back in 1985, a co-worker invited me to his house.
He wanted to show off his satellite dish.
Today, the dishes (we have one) are small and dainty and sit delicately on your roof.
The dish he had--and I'm not making this up--was in his backyard and was surrounded by a fence.
This thing was as big as a garage. Again, no joking.
I thought that he not only could get television from it, but also some NASA updates, plus maybe some gossip from the Kremlin.
Then he showed me the "TV guide" for his service.
Tuesday night at 8:00 took up five, six pages.
No lie, remember?
I kidded with him.
"By the time I find out what I want to watch at 8:00, it's 8:30!"
He wasn't amused.
The dish he had was connected to his TV by a device that was similar to a cable box. And on this device were several--SEVERAL--settings, lettered.
Each letter was like a tier. And each tier's listings were printed in this weekly guide, which was almost as thick as a Manhattan phone book.
But gosh darn it, if I wanted to watch Leave it to Beaver at 8:00, I could probably find it, somewhere, on some tier on that monstrosity.
Too much TV. And that was 24 years ago.
Too much TV now, too. And no time to commit the schedules to memory.
It's like sitting near a vat of chocolate and being devoid of a ladle.
The Red Wings are on tonight at 10:30, by the way.
That much I know.
Mainly because I don't know when anything is on.
It's all there, and yet it isn't--the television at my disposal.
I watch sports, mainly because I know when the games are played, and thus when they're being shown on the telly.
I used to know when my favorite TV shows were on.
Now, I have no clue when anything is on. And I don't have the time or the patience to bother finding out, I guess.
My mother is far more TV savvy than I am. She has favorite shows, some of which sound terrific, if only I knew when they were being broadcast.
But she knows, and since she's sans a DVR or TiVo, that means she has to plunk her butt on the chair and tune in, as scheduled.
And she does. Apparently.
There was a time, before cables invaded our homes, when I knew darn well when the "good shows" were on.
You only had to keep track of ABC, CBS, and NBC, you know.
Next time you see someone under the age of 30, tell them that once there were only three major networks, plus some UHF tiny TV tots.
Then have a camera ready, and snap their expression after you tell them this.
So ABC had Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley and Fantasy Island. NBC had Columbo and MacMillan and Wife and Laugh-In.
Ahh, then there was CBS. My favorite.
M*A*S*H.
The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
Carol Burnett.
All in the Family.
The Bob Newhart Show.
Saturday night was the best.
Moore, Burnett, Newhart, Archie Bunker.
They don't make TV schedules like that anymore!
Heck, they don't make TV shows like that anymore.
Point being, I knew when to tune in to all of the above. ALL of the above.
This is before VCRs, even. So if you missed a show, you missed it. Tough.
Until the rerun came around, several months hence.
Now there are hundreds of channels, literally. I'm sure some of them even present something worth watching.
But I'll be darned if I know when.
I knew when Mary and friends were on, without fail
One of the culprits is the multiple showing. On the surface, it's a grand idea by programmers: replay episodes throughout the week so that the Neilsen families may watch in case they missed them originally.
But the result, to me, is simply more confusion.
If Show A is on at 8:00 p.m. on Thursdays, then I can train my brain to remember that. I'm pretty sure.
But if Show A is also on at 9:00 on Friday, 2 a.m. on Sunday, and noon on Monday, then you've lost me.
Give me one viewing to remember, and if I forget, shame on me.
Back in 1985, a co-worker invited me to his house.
He wanted to show off his satellite dish.
Today, the dishes (we have one) are small and dainty and sit delicately on your roof.
The dish he had--and I'm not making this up--was in his backyard and was surrounded by a fence.
This thing was as big as a garage. Again, no joking.
I thought that he not only could get television from it, but also some NASA updates, plus maybe some gossip from the Kremlin.
Then he showed me the "TV guide" for his service.
Tuesday night at 8:00 took up five, six pages.
No lie, remember?
I kidded with him.
"By the time I find out what I want to watch at 8:00, it's 8:30!"
He wasn't amused.
The dish he had was connected to his TV by a device that was similar to a cable box. And on this device were several--SEVERAL--settings, lettered.
Each letter was like a tier. And each tier's listings were printed in this weekly guide, which was almost as thick as a Manhattan phone book.
But gosh darn it, if I wanted to watch Leave it to Beaver at 8:00, I could probably find it, somewhere, on some tier on that monstrosity.
Too much TV. And that was 24 years ago.
Too much TV now, too. And no time to commit the schedules to memory.
It's like sitting near a vat of chocolate and being devoid of a ladle.
The Red Wings are on tonight at 10:30, by the way.
That much I know.
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