Simple Reality

As you know, I am not a television fan. Mostly, it’s a waste of time. Television is a nerve jangling distraction in my quest to live a soothing life; a life floating on a cloud of calm, overlooking a sea of serendipity, a lovely life of sunshine and happiness, pretty flowers and long sandy beaches, simple pleasures that are completely removed from reality.

I don’t live in a pristine bubble. In the evenings, I am joined by an impostor, who tricked me by pretending he liked the same things I like. He bound me to him with a marital contract, which detained me long enough to realize he was unfit and unprepared to make his way through life without my assistance. I allow him to control the television remote.

It all started with sporadic episodes of Deadliest Catch, a harmless glimpse into a way of life that I used to know. Before I knew it, I was watching weekend marathons to catch up on what I’d missed. I bought in to every aspect of the show. They were my friends. I cried for the Harris brothers when their dad died. I used to think I could walk away from the TV at any time. I don’t know how it infiltrated my life. I’m losing sleep over it.

Last night, I tried to stay awake to watch  the season finale of Duck Dynasty. The entire Robertson family goes on vacation to Hawaii. I made it as far as Willie losing his luggage and Miss Kay falling asleep in the hotel room while Phil watched a Bourne Supremacy marathon.  I’m not ashamed to say I am hooked. As Phil might say, “It’s because the show makes me happy, happy, happy.”

The Robertsons are comforting, if not completely authentic. They remind me of The Waltons. Both families are loyal to the concept of unity, have a deep faith, are working class, and incorporate wit and charm in a message of caring. I like that the Robertsons end each show with Phil saying grace at the family meal. The commitment and continuity are soothing.

My husband and I watch the programs and we’re lost in worlds that remind us of times when life seemed simpler.

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About elroyjones

Married, no children, responsibly self-directed, living happily.
This entry was posted in Human Condition and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to Simple Reality

  1. jatwood4 says:

    Ah, the delicious shame of it all!!!

  2. I love deadliest catch.

  3. John says:

    We all have our flaws… it’s nice that you are able to publicly admit yours. 🙂 🙂

  4. maesprose says:

    I have not heard of any of these shows. I’m afraid to investigate and will not judge you. I too may get sucked in.

    • elroyjones says:

      Thank you for your neutrality. If not for my husband’s sneaky brainwashing techniques I would never have been sucked in to begin with. It’s too late for me but not for you!

  5. joehoover says:

    I usually plan my viewing and record documentaries or films or decent US series so I don’t end up watching crap. But sometimes you just gotta stick a pizza in, crack open some wine and watch a reality show about a sexual health clinic in London’s Soho where you see them taking swabs of peoples’ nasty rashes. That was how I spent last night anyway.

    • elroyjones says:

      hahahahahahahahaha! hahahahahaha!
      You have irreproachable standards
      and impeccable delivery. Thanks for the laugh.

      • joehoover says:

        In a way it was interesting as people were on TV allowing a camera to have a good look at their private parts and their rectums, and then they chatted to the camera afterwards as they got their results. Some people really want to get on TV bad.

      • elroyjones says:

        hahahahahahaha! That’s how I feel about the reality intervention programs we have here with people poking and prodding, huffing, snuffing and shooting up. I can’t imagine inviting anyone to film my less than glamorous life let alone if that life were affected by unattractive afflictions.

  6. I believe that somewhere on every remote in small print you’ll find the words ‘for use by men only.’
    Women in the military, yes. A woman president, of course. Women wielding remotes, never.

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