It’s been five months since I’ve had a television in my apartment. When I tell people this, they stare at me strangely as if I am one of those persons who hoards water and canned goods because of the approaching Y2K. I like to think of myself as a normal person—at least, I hope to appear that way to most people. And I like to think that the absence of a television in my daily life has not made me a freak of society. But I’m afraid I have taken on some unusual habits since throwing away my television.
I’m a graduate student and I write for a local newspaper, so I am a busy person—but not to the extent that I am swamped with things to do during all of my waking hours. Therefore, I have compiled the following list to give you an idea of what I do in my leisure time, when I normally would have been plopped in front of the boob tube.
Read. A few years ago, I compiled a list of the books that I wanted to read, such as Crime and Punishment, War and Peace, Tess of the D’Ubervilles. The list was about 30 books long and in three years I had gotten to three of those books. In the five months that I have not had a TV, I managed to zip through that list (not all of it, mind you). Eventually I got bored with those books and started pouring over ones more than 500 pages long, for example, The Story of Language, The Encyclopedia of World History. An Expert’s Guide to Automotive repair, The Dictionary of Practical Hobbies and Handicrafts.
I also read my mail. Not only do I read my bank statements carefully and all the credit card plans offered me, but I also thoroughly read the items many people call junk mail. Yep, I am talking about those Wal-Mart sale pamphlets and the deals from Joe the appliance man.
And I read many more magazines and newspapers. I subscribe to about 10 monthly magazines now--everything from National Geographic to National Model Railroad Magazine, a couple local and national newspapers.
Talk on the phone. My phone bill has skyrocketed. I call everyone. All the time. Even my mother complains, Why are you calling me? Didn’t we just talk the other day?
Hobbies. I shop at hobby stores, scrounging for a project that will take up a lot of time, like 100,000 piece puzzles or make-your-own birdhouse kits. Everyone near and dear to me this year will receive a painting for their birthday and a birdhouse for Christmas. Yes, I have also rekindled my love for painting and my lack of depth perception does not stop me from painting. I was thoroughly impressed with my paintings until my parents came to visit a few weeks ago and my dad remarked, "that one’s pretty good, if you look at it from a distance—like across the street." Everyone’s a comedian.
Public Radio. I’ve always listened to public radio, but I’ve never donated any money because I thought you had to be a loyal listener. This year, I couldn’t sleep without forking over a considerable amount of cash, considering that the voices of Carl Castle and Linda Wertheimer are so often heard gabbing in my apartment, my neighbors think I have room-mates. I have also started to schedule my Saturdays and Sundays afternoons around "This American Life" like I did with Wednesday nights and "Beverly Hills, 90210."
About a month after I got rid of the television, I was getting tired of feeling like an outsider when people at the office chatted about last night’s episode of Drew Carey, how it was just so hilarious. So one day after work, instead of reading The New Yorker cartoons or teaching myself macramé, I went to my university’s gym. As I worked my thighs on the Stairmaster or NordicTrack, I had four or five televisions to indulge myself with. I stayed on a bike for an hour and a half, laughing out loud to those crazy, witty sitcom characters.
But my second time around, a week or two later, even with hundreds of TVs blaring a variety of shows, I lost interest. I assumed my attention span would lengthen once I gave up TV, but I couldn’t watch a TV show for more than ten minutes without feeling anxious and annoyed. I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly bothered me, but it had to do with the fact that the TVs were distracting conversations that I tried to strike up with people. I left the gym without having sweated a drop or finished a conversation and retreated to my local tavern. But even there, everyone who I started to chitchat with ended up focusing their attention to one of the TVs dangling above the bar. Maybe I am just a boring person to talk to, I thought and I went back to my apartment with its knitting piles, newspaper stacks, oil paints, herb gardens, puzzles, birdhouses. I called up my friend to vent my feelings on the decline of American society, but she cut me short. "Um, can I call you back? I’m in the middle of watching ER."
To read more about living a television-less life, check out the following sites.
