Intentional Television

Posted on January 23, 2007 by alivingpencil

The first 29 years of my life were lived without a television in the house. As a teen-ager I didn’t miss TV, but I hated being weird; I was allergic to otherness. One day in high school the teacher decided to do an on-the-spot survey of TV viewing habits. One by one, she queried the class and students gave the hours watched the day before. The usual replies were between two and four hours. I cringed as she came closer to calling on me. Joe Fritz, the guy in front of me, had been sick the day before and figured he watched 8 1/2 hours.

“Carol?” she droned. “How much did you watch?”

I looked a little off to her left and said, “None.”

This threw her off her stride, but evidently interested her. “Wait a minute. Were you not home yesterday?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “No. I was home.”

“Is your TV broke?”

“Um…no.” [Please, please don’t make me admit I don’t have a TV] With each question I slid a quarter of an inch lower in my seat. I focused my attention on a spot on the floor.

“Well, how much did you watch the day before?”

Better face the music. Big sigh. I looked up and admitted, “None….we don’t have a TV.”

“You DON”T HAVE A TV?” She searched for a diplomatic way to ask about our financial status.

“Carol, is there a reason your family doesn’t have a TV?”

“Yes there is. My dad doesn’t want one.”

A similar conversation a few years ago made me laugh instead of cringe. I was at my desk at the pharmacy where I work entering numbers on Excel. There were two twenty-something co-workers in the office. One is what my husband calls a Chatty Cathy.

“[celebrity’s name] had a baby girl yesterday.”

I kept working and replied, “Oh. Good. [pause] Is she one of our customers?”

Pepsi came spewing out of her mouth as she choked and said, “Carol. You don’t know who […] is?”

I paused and looked at her. “Should I know who she is?”

The twenty-something intern jumped in. “Don’t you watch Friends?”

“Well, I’ve seen a few minutes here and there, but I’ve never watched an entire episode. I’m sorry, but I’m unfamiliar with […]”

The shock of it all disoriented them. They shook their heads trying to process the wonder of it. Giggles kept erupting from them over the next half hour. I chuckled, shrugged, smiled, and sat up straighter as I continued with my number crunching.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is not a screed against watching television.

This is a rant against mindless viewing habits.

Roseteacup’s comment “TV is a thief to be reckoned with” has been reverberating through my week. After we got a TV, the pendulum swung and for a period our viewing diet was omnivorous. We considered getting rid of the TV, but favored controlling it over chucking it. We established (and re-established – you know how slippage happens) some household rules:

1. The kids do not have open access to the TV. They need permission to even turn it on.

2. Watching TV during a meal is a rare exception. There is something precious about eating around a table and talking to one another. When the World Series is on, we’ll eat while watching the game in the living room. It’s fun, but it’s not normal.

3. The TV is never on for background noise. The world is full of beautiful music to listen to. Silence allows you to mull over ideas. Serenity is nigh impossible with a TV on.

4. People always trump programs. When someone knocks on the door the TV goes off. No. matter. what. We honor our visitor by listening and looking at them with our full attention. When we talk on the phone we leave the room if the TV is on.

5. Decide the level of intake in advance. When we’re tired, weary, bored, etc. the default response is not to turn the television on. It grips, it sucks, it scoops you in – but it rarely satisfies.

We have found this to be a part of life which requires regular, systematic evaluation. There are some great shows to watch. But they don’t always remain great shows to watch. Television is a medium which delivers some that is profitable and much that is wretched. Too many times I have watched a program that was substandard, but was too passive, too engaged (or is it disengaged?), to click Off. When I go to a nursing home I notice the comatose habits of the residents in front of the box; I **so** don’t want that to be the way I live life at age 75.

Thoughts? Any yeahbuts?

Barchester Chronicles

Posted on January 10, 2007 by alivingpencil

The Barchester Chronicles is a 1982 BBC mini-series adaption of Anthony Trollope’s The Warden and Barchester Towers. Donald Pleasance does a fine job portraying Septimus Harding, who must be a good guy since he plays the cello. A young Alan Rickman enters the story in the third episode playing the filmy chaplain, Obadiah Slope.

The pace of the series is agonizingly slow at times, and the style of videography is reflective of both 1982 and the BBC: slow pans, very little background music, single camera shots. If you are itching for action, watch National Treasure; get the itch out of your system before you sit and savor this slow, sweet film. With that caveat given, I can rave about this wonderful DVD.

At the heart of the story is “our dear Mr. Harding,” a man who is kind-hearted, contented, and perceptive, a man who is meek in the best sense of the word. His over-ambitious son-in-law, the archdeacon, is perpetually peeved at Mr. Harding’s placid response to personal criticism. “My father-in-law can be a very difficult person,” he complains to his father, the bishop. To which the bishop replies, “He has persistent bouts of ….Christianity.”

Lawyers and lawsuits occupy the first two episodes. Twelve bedesmen are persuaded to make a class-action suit against our cello-playing hero, who is the warden of Hiram’s Hospital, an almshouse for aging workers. One man is loyal to Mr. Harding and tries to talk them out of the suit.

“We wants what’s ours by law!”

“Law! Never a poor man yet was better for law or a lawyer. Will Mr. Finney [lawyer] be as good to you as the warden has been? Will he feed you when you’re sick, comfort you when you’re wretched? Wait ’til you’re all on your deathbeds. Then cry out for lawyers. See what good it’ll do you. Law! Tchah!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The relationship between our dear Mr. Harding and his younger daughter is a lovely portrait of mutual devotion and respect. The man who loves this daughter has been cast in an adverserial role to the warden.

“Mr. Bold has asked me to marry him.”

“I trust you said yes?”

“You don’t mind?”

“John Bold is honest, good, kind-hearted and right-thinking in the main. A good wife will smooth the little imperfections.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Our dear Mr. Harding is passionate about music. One of his peculiarities is that when he is trapped in an emotionally-charged situation he will comfort himself by playing the cello in the air, making bowstrokes with his right hand and vibrato on the strings with his left. This was played to perfection by Pleasance. Later, after the slimy Obadiah Slope preaches a sermon against the use of music in worship, Mr. Harding reflects:

“If there is no music, there is no mystery. If there is no mystery, there is no God. If there is no mystery, there is no faith.”

Finally, in a tender scene of parting, a benediction given to the bedesmen by Mr. Harding, the loyal bedesman responds, and Mr. Harding’s reply:

“May you live content and die trusting in the Lord Jesus Christ and thankful to Almighty God for the good things He has given you. God bless you all, my friends.”

“I have now to forgive those who have injured me, and then to die.”

“That’s all any of us can hope for.”

Eschatology in Three Movies

Posted on March 20, 2006 by alivingpencil

Carson and Taryn wanted to talk theology on their last visit, in particular eschatology. In a drive to Wallowa County we talked through three positions on end times: amillenial, premillenial, and postmillenial. A few days later my husband suggested a different way of looking at things. “Think of three well-known movies. Each portrays one of these three positions.” Much discussion ensued, but I’m asking you, “Which movie do you think illustrates which view?” Wait a minute! Think of the entire Narnia series of books, specifically The Last Battle, not just the first movie. I found it to be a fascinating exercise.