Should psychologists ever use my children to reassess Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, their findings would conclude that cable television should be added alongside air, food and sleep as essential human needs. In fact, it may actually outrank food and sleep, given the children’s eagerness to forgo both if it means feasting on just one more episode of iCarly or that androgynous spaz, SpongeBob.
Until recently, we didn’t even have cable and I simply connected a laptop to the TV to access our favorite shows via the Internet. For all intents and purposes, this proved to be more than adequate in fulfilling our entertainment needs. That, and it was cheap, too.
However, as a concession to my wife’s burning desire to watch shows at their regularly scheduled times rather than wait a day before they were available for download, I agreed to order cable once we moved into our house. Within days of settling in, I made the call to the cable company. Soon, we had access to an infinite number of channels, the dauntingness of which was further exacerbated by the additions of a DVR and On-Demand viewing.
Despite the delighted giggles my family let out as they ran their fingers along the sleek contour of the NASA-engineered cable remote included with the package, I wish I hadn’t caved. Maybe I’d feel differently if getting cable hadn’t coincided with the beginning of summer, thus guaranteeing that five little boys and girls will be standing just beyond the threshold of my office door every morning prior to 7 A.M. Words are unnecessary in determining what they want. I can tell by the expression on their faces, a mix of anticipatory glee and unrestrained self-control that induces in me the same degree of pity and disgust one reserves for a popular entertainer turned meth-addict.
Of course I supply the kids with a one, sometimes two, hour fix followed by another hit at 4 P.M. Even so, during the void that exists in between, they wander around like lobotomized zombies.
“What do we do now?” they ask in a lifeless moan, glancing back and forth before looking to me for an answer.
This I find baffling. The girls and boys both have large bedrooms. A dedicated playroom sits upstairs full of toys, games and art projects. There’s a driveway in which they can ride bikes. The backyard yearns to be discovered. However, as long as there’s 8 billion plus (mostly useless) channels a mere click away, everything, including life itself, is meaningless.
The kids’ acute state of aimlessness became so bad, I kept my door shut in the hopes that my ignoring them would prompt them to figure out how to occupy themselves constructively without seeking my input every three minutes. From my perspective, this tactic seems to be working. Although if asked, I haven’t the faintest clue as to what the five of them might be doing. Not until about 3:30 P.M., anyway, at which time I am fully aware of their whereabouts— sitting on the floor outside my office where they wait like hardcore fans camping out at the box-office several days before the tickets even go on sale.
Their capacity for patience over the next half hour is commendable and rivals feats of super human endurance.
At 4 PM, though, they get antsy.
At 4:05, I can hear the pain in their voices.
At 4:06, my youngest stepdaughter starts to break.
Once, to ensure I was aware of the situation, she burst through my door with all the force of a DEA agent raiding a crack house. Another time, as I talked on the phone, she stood pointing frantically towards the TV, a gesture meant to inform me that valuable minutes were being lost. In response, I threw a flip-flop at her. Unfazed, she sidestepped the projectile and continued to hover nearby like a stray dog that ignores your threats until it’s had the chance to finish pilfering through your garbage.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-television. I have a list of favorite shows, but they don’t rule over me. This may have something to do with my exposure to TV as a child back when the choices were limited to NBC, ABC, CBS and a blurry PBS. Cartoons only aired on Saturday mornings and sometimes on the weekdays after school. There was nothing on during the day, which was inconsequential since my mother kicked us out of the house after breakfast with instructions not to return before dinner.
Our gem of a television set probably played a part in my lack of passion for programming, too. You had to slap it twice on the right side and then once on the left before the picture would come into focus. Every so often, the wires connecting the chimney-mounted antenna needed to be stripped and reattached to the rear console in order to keep any semblance of a signal. And rather than using a remote (which were rare anyway), changing the channel required a pair of needle-nose pliers and insulated gloves to avoid a nasty shock. Not only was our TV hard to use, but it inflicted pain, as well.
A pain inflicting mechanism could be a handy feature on today’s televisions. Then again, given my children’s slavish devotion, they’d likely fall on their knees and beg to be forgiven, convinced that they had, in some way, offended the cable gods. I can just picture it, interrupting them as they gather in front of the TV screen. A crude altar is fashioned atop the coffee table on which the neighbor’s cat, its paws bound together, squirms at the sight of a flaming match set to ignite the pile of popsicle sticks placed underneath it.
“We couldn’t find a lamb,” one offers.
“Or a virgin,” another adds. “I hope this does not anger the Disney Channel.”
Still, there is an upside to the sway cable holds over my children. If there are chores to be done or bad behavior to curb, a subtle hint to revoke their TV privileges trumps every motivational technique I have ever seen. It’s almost as if cable television has become some version of a feeder pellet that’s conditioned my kids to be more helpful and courteous. Maybe when those psychologists are done testing Maslow’s theory, they could use my kids to reconfirm Ivan Pavlov’s conclusions using dogs.
About Ron Mattocks
Ah. Saturday morning cartoons. Up at 6am, the parents got to sleep in and we’d be captive audiences, eating dry cereal out of boxes for hours.
Those were the days.
Twitter Name: thedgoddess
Those truly were. Now it’s drink a glass of Metimucil, watch re-run of Jeopardy, bed by 6pm.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
love the diagram, just got my son a DS and he has access to my iphone. I would say it comes before food and in fact we now have a negotiation tool to use to get him to eat.
Twitter Name: myeverydaydaddy
We are learning how to do this too. I refer to them as Go Go Gadget Negotiations.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
If only you let them watch it as a nonstop soothing technique since toddlerhood as I did, they would be slightly (notice the word “slightly”) more numb to tv’s allure now. However, NOTHING can prevent a meltdown over missing the evening episode of Bubble Guppies. I feel your pain.
Twitter Name: HeatherSchiavo
Bubble Guppies? Oh wow! A show with a title like that demands investigation.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
When we moved a couple weeks ago, I said we weren’t going to get cable, since I never watch TV and didn’t think it a good use of money or time. But then when AT&T came to set up the phone and internet, I ended up caving, because I remembered the peace and quiet we can get at 6AM when the children turn on PBS instead of jumping into my lap. At least I got the basic, cheap package.
Twitter Name: themuskrat
I’m not a big TV guy either, or at least I wasn’t until after getting married. Now I’m sucked into all kinds of crap. I’m so weak.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
We’re looking at going the other route. We might get rid of cable and keep Netflix (even with the DVD price hike). Add in the selection of DVDs at our local library and some over-the-air TV programming (including PBS) and we might just meet the kids’ entertainment needs. If we do this, we stand to save $600 a year. That’s enough to pay for a trip to Disney World every few years.
Twitter Name: TechyDad
I can attest to the fact you will save a ton doing that. Hulu, Netflix, library and Redbox were more than enough as far as I was concerned. My wife just couldn’t live waiting one extra day for America’s Next Top Model and So You Think You Can Dance. The compromise was that I could get a few comic books weekly. The only problem–no money for comic books. I think I was conned. Well, they say marriage is about compromise.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
Cable. Hate it. Too Expensive. I’m canceling it. But, I have to admit it did help when the kids were growing up and they could tune into their favorite programs now and then. Now at 17 and 20, there are more options for them. I won’t miss it because I don’t watch that much TV. If the kids miss it too much, they can pay for it.
I remember very little TV when I was a kid. My mom’s battle cry was “Go out and play!” Different time. Different world.
Twitter Name: SurprisedMom
Too expensive is right! I remember when you could get all the cable you could ever “need” for $35/month. Good lord, how would kids every make it today with only the 4 major networks to choose from like we did?
Your mom and mine must’ve enlisted in the same Army.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
Hilarious post Ron, thanks.
I’m with you on the ease and simplicity of a cable-free home. Still holding out at our end, with a media mix that’s 100% streaming or DVD over laptops and iPads.
Sensing the day looming when we’ll have to buy a screen for the living room, I know a cable bill can’t be far behind.
Still, I like that it always feels like a special occasion now to [gasp] watch a new movie, or get the newest season of our broadcast faves on DVD, or even go to the movies.
Also, great obscure reference to St. Clare of Assisi, apparently named patron saint of broadcasters thanks to traditions of her having visions of Mass from a distance.
Twitter Name: Christopher W Buckley
Thanks Chris,
Yeah, all the streaming vids, Hulu, Netflix, Redbox and DVDs were fine by me. In a way I felt like I was getting away with something–sort of like getting free cable, but without breaking the law.
Do you think Rupert Murdoch needs a medallion with the likeness of St Clare on it? Is there a patron saint for muti-media moguls?
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
Still fighting the good fight here. Not sure how it will play out when 4yo becomes 7 or 8yo. Wish me luck.
Stay strong my friend. :-)
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
We get a motel room a couple of times of month, just for the television.
Pathetic? Maybe. But I get mesmorized easily and the internet sucks out enough of my brain cells, as it is.
Pathetic? Nah. You probably are way more productive than me. Sitting on the couch, clicking through channels, I often find myself looking at the bookshelf and thinking “I really should dust that.” Then I go back to clicking the remote.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks
“As long as there’s 8 billion plus (mostly useless) channels a mere click away, everything, including life itself, is meaningless.”
Says it all.
And I love the sacrifice of the cat. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
What’s to become of us?
Twitter Name: justaddfather
I’ve been avoiding any trips to the pet store just in case although, I’ve already told the neighbors I can’t guarantee the safety of their pets during the summer months.
Twitter Name: Ronald Mattocks