When I was growing up, it seemed normal to be at the
"Cheers" Christmas party and look over to see my little brother in a conga line with Kirsti Alley,
just like heading out to babysit for "Cliffy the Mailman's" son was part of a day's work.
Not that my pseudo-insider status did anything to help my
popularity in Junior High School. In fact, my status as "geek" plummeted to "untouchable" in
eighth grade when a "Night Court" episode entitled "The Reeders Take New York" aired. My dad's
friend and boss, amused by a wholesome family in Hollywood, wrote a story about the na`EFve and
dorky Reeder family that unwittingly wanders into the red light district of New York City on
family vacation.
He used our real names, ages and even found actors that
resembled us - so of course "Jenny Reeder" was a brace-faced, awkward teen. Just my luck - a
popular girl saw the show, and for months my peers laughed until they cried as they asked me
capitals of states - a game the TV Reeder family played to pass time. (It was extremely
unfortunate that my class was learning all 50 capitals, so like a nerd, I usually knew the answer
and would supply it. D'oh!)
But at home, ironically, our television viewing was
strictly monitored because my dad considers most TV "mind garbage." We never watched TV during
meals (World Series excepted) and were urged to watch sports if we had to watch TV once our homework was
done. My brother and I would hear my dad's approaching footsteps and flick away from the
"Incredible Hulk" or the "A-Team" to search desperately for a baseball game, so that we might have
an answer when Dad demanded, "What's the score of the Dodgers game?"
I left L.A. to go to college in Syracuse, N.Y., and for
many years TV had no importance in my life. Then my boyfriend, Bryan, and I formed an addiction to
"The Simpsons" - unfortunately, a syndicated show that aired six nights a week. It became a happy
hour ritual that led to more TV and drinking, and then maybe a televised movie with tons of
commercials.
Then a few years ago, we spent a year in Taiwan, where it
was pointless to have a TV because we weren't fluent in Mandarin Chinese. It was amazing how many
more books we read, how much more news we got from the Internet.
When we came back to the United States, we moved to
Durango and plugged back in. We pledged to avoid watching too much TV, but "The Simpsons" almost
immediately broke our resolve. Then we discovered "E! True Hollywood Story" (poor Marlon Brando!)
and ridiculous shows like "Trading Spaces." We even watched an episode of "Joe Millionaire" to see
what all the fuss was about. Of course, we read less, and sometimes watched "Headline News" during
meals.
About five months ago, we knew we had to unplug.
So we did. We even moved into a house with a
concrete-embedded satellite dish (I want to dress it up) and resisted the urge. We're back to
reading a ton; I even joined a book club last month. (Though I must admit that in a motel room in
Lake City on a rainy day, we watched hour upon hour of "I Love the '70s" on VH1.)
I haven't seen new episodes of "Frazier" that my dad's
been working on or the reality shows my brother films as a cameraman, like "Meet My Folks" or
"Love Test" (though he assures me they're terrible).
Everything's been hunky dory, and we rationalized the
purchase of a hot tub with "the money we save by not paying a cable bill."
But the Eye has resumed its Siren song. The Red Sox are in
the playoffs at time of writing, and Bryan's from Boston. To make matters worse, a local liquor
store gave us a free magnet with this year's Avalanche schedule. A few nights ago, I actually
heard, "Tonight I miss TV."
The hand is writing on the wall after a mere five months,
but I guess it's not so bad: with Schwarzenegger in office, his Simpsons counterpart McBane is
sure to become Mayor of Springfield. How can I miss out on that?
- Jen
Reeder
