I don’t have cable television. There, I said it. When talking to new people I generally try to avoid the topic of television all together due to my reluctance to admit to this seemingly shameful secret.
TV Viewer: Have you seen Breaking Bad? Bryan Cranston is so good.
Me: No, haven’t caught that.
TV Viewer: How about Mad Men?
Me: Waiting for the DVDs for Season 1 on Netflix.
TV Viewer: Do you get HBO?
Me: (Sensing the inevitable line of questioning, I go all in) Nope. We don’t have cable.
TV Viewer: Oh, you have satellite then.
Me: No. It’s kind of like rabbit ears.
TV Viewer: (Visibly shaken at this point) What Channels do you get with that?
Me: NBC, Fox, and on clear days we get CBS.
This is generally the point in the conversation at which I get the sympathetic head tilt/lowered voice combo:
TV Viewer: Is it for religious reasons? I mean, do you object to the content?
Unless you count objecting to paying in excess of $50 a month for a service I can use less than one hour a day a conscientious objection, then no, a higher power wasn’t consulted on this particular decision.
As far as the content goes, I’m hearing TV is maybe as good as it ever has been. Judging from the Dukes of Hazzard and Doggie Howser M.D. reruns I’ve caught on Hulu recently, it’s probably pretty hard to argue that an advancement in quality hasn’t been made, 2 and ½ Men’s continued existence notwithstanding.
One of the benefits of not having cable television for the past three years, besides 60% less exposure to the talents of Ryan Seacrest, is that feeling of obligation. As if a particular show was your marriage and you were Catholic.
“Listen I know we haven’t been all that present with Survivor since the fourth season, but if we stopped now, what would the neighbors think?
