Early in my first year at the University, I learned that a friend was raised without a TV in her home. Considering that she grew up with nine siblings, I pictured an energetic, pioneering family, like Lucille Ball's clan in "Cheaper by the Dozen." They might have even traded couch life for outdoor adventure, a la "Swiss Family Robinson" - if they weren't in Detroit. I could hardly imagine a childhood without the Flintstones, KITT, and Eddie Murphy's Gumby act.
Most Americans grow up with a remote control in hand, consuming entertainment while the television consumes their time. Before I arrived in Ann Arbor, watching TV was a daily ritual, akin to eating lunch and driving to school. I spent countless hours of my youth watching everything from Scrappy Doo to Anne of Green Gables, and then I came to college without a television. After having taken TV for granted, I eventually understood its power to influence, inform, and entice.
After only one semester without TV in my life, a television seemed surprisingly unnecessary. Until then, television had affected not only how I spent my time, but also how I saw the world. The endless distractions of college life had weaned me off of what was admittedly mind-numbing entertainment. If TV were a drug, then the University was an effective rehab clinic. Goodbye trash TV, hello academic enlightenment.
As a recovering TV addict, I saw people who planted themselves in front of the tube from a new perspective. Before life without TV, it was funny that my brother's college roommate skipped classes to watch reruns of "The Fall Guy." (He is now a policeman). Now, it was just plain pathetic. He could have at least stayed home for Jerry Springer.
But one person's "idiot box" is another's getaway. Whether Ted Koppel or Ricki Lake provides the escape only proves how inviting TV is today. Television connoisseurs find programs to satisfy their appetites no matter how tasteless they seem to others. I should know. After two whole years without a television, I recently had a major relapse. With a TV at school, I am no longer a total TV fiend, but an occasional user.
Last week, I caught Tom Snyder interviewing writer Fran Leibowitz on CBS's "Late Late Show." Leibowitz said, "The most American thing you can do is be on TV," and then insisted that because she was on TV, of course every American would now like her. Obviously, the remark was sarcastic, but it points to a much larger issue - we, a nation of viewers, are ruled by TV.
More than any other form of media, television is unmatched in its capacity to take time, money, and burdens away from the masses. If it was not such potent one-way communication, Mike TV would never visit Willy Wonka, "Pop Culture 101" would not exist, and University students would never write term papers on the ramifications of "Must-See TV."
American television may be a getaway, but it is also a gateway - to media, culture, and people worldwide. As frustration with Internet traffic and confidence in technology rise, new products will merge the interactive capabilities of the TV set and PC monitor. Years ago, AT&T ads claimed that if you haven't seen anything like this yet, "you will." A new generation will grow up watching vintage "Smurfs" on the same screen as their parents' new Website. As for now, though, Americans are happy cuddling up to their "Friends."