A tempest in a TV

Last week I decided to get rid of my cable service after developing a small but intense rage issue when I found out my cable + internet bill had risen from $60.00 to $100.00 after removing the promotional rate that used to be non-temporary but had been arbitrarily temporary and subject to revocation all along.

I was pretty smug for dropping TV, partly because I managed to wait out my company's customer service endurance challenge and stayed on hold for two hours to get it done, partly because I view television mostly as a huge black hole waiting to suck the productiveness out of my day and the intelligence out of my brain (empirical evidence includes not only my willingness, but absolute slavish devotion, to keeping up with new "Maui Fever" episodes on MTV), but also because it was $60 bucks gone from my cable bill, and that could be used for much more purposeful things. Things like lots and lots of cherry lip gloss or 420 pieces of Bazooka gum from the counter of the Mexican restaurant down the block from my house.

So since I was all pleased with myself, I called my parents to let them know I had just made a Responsible Adult Choice and that they could start showering me with adoration and apologies for assuming I am a screw up most, if not all, of the time.

Unfortunately, the conversation went more like this:

ME: So, I decided to cancel my television subscription. Isn't that great?

THEM: Are you in financial trouble again?

ME: No...I just realized the four shows I watch are already on the Internet for free, and I don't really think there's anything else valuable on anymore.

THEM: Why wouldn't you want TV?

ME: I just told you...it's cheaper and I can get whatever I want from the Internet.

THEM: What about news?

ME: I read the news online or in a paper as I eat breakfast each morning.

THEM: What if there's a tornado?

ME: Um...we have sirens here too.

THEM: Well, if you needed money you should've just asked.

ME: *Sighs* I'll see you this weekend.


During the aforementioned weekend, I received a fancy television antenna from my father who proffered it with a look of total incredulity that one of his offspring might actually forsake television. And in a way, I can understand that, because my father works a physically grueling job with horrible 12-hour shifts and by the time he comes home, the only thing he has energy to do is sit in his recliner and watch television. That's sort of been the culture in my family since I was little; the TV was my babysitter when I was a latchkey kid, it was what eased family tensions after a dinntertime argument, and it's what my dad and I bonded over whenever I was home in college. We didn't have to talk, or think, or interact. We just...existed...and the TV played a vital role in that.

But now apparently my father is telling family members that I really didn't turn off the television voluntarily; that it had been disconnected because I couldn't pay the bill and that obviously makes me a little mad. I guess he didn't want me to know he was saying those things, though, because when I made a joke about it he got really, really angry and hung up the phone. I'm translating that as embarrassed that he had those suspicions and probably frustrated he didn't feel like he could talk to me about it if he did think that. In the end, my brother got yelled at for telling me and I got yelled at for bringing it up and now I'm sitting here scratching my head and having a major WTF moment. How was that our fault?

My mother explained it like this before she declared the family "just so darn messed up" and hung up on me: I should've known my father well enough to anticipate that a joke like that wouldn't be perceived as something funny, but as an insult to him. I should've realized that if he talks about one of us to another family member, that the information is supposed to be confidential and not talked about even if I do find out about it from someone else. And I should've known that telling my father something like giving up television is going to be viewed with skepticism and alarm.

Well, no...I didn't know those things, because our parents NEVER TALKED TO US ABOUT ANYTHING. Mostly what I know about my dad is that he likes "The Golden Girls". His favorite TV snack food is popcorn or cut vegetables. He can tell you the name of any actor or actress in a movie, but he has a harder time remembering details about the plots. He wants to go to Hollywood someday and take a studio tour so he can find out what a gaffer and a best boy are.

But I don't know what my dad thinks and feels about things, and I didn't know he'd completely wig out over something I perceived as so trivial in the course of my life.
And I didn't know because my parents are so neurotically private and closed off that the stupid television must've been a relief to have around, because it ensured that no one in the household would have to do any extraneous thinking or feeling or connecting that might actually help them become whole, happy individuals and maybe even a functional family.

Good riddance to all of it, I say.