The joys of a free man: Sunday TV

Besides ruining any excuse I could possibly have with any of my professors, here I outline the recipe for a perfect day of laziness (only those who have nary a care in the world need apply):

Josh White Jumping the Gun

First, wake up sometime in the afternoon. Like 1:30 or 2 p.m. or anytime that you estimate is later than everyone else in the same time zone woke up, including your roommate. The sun has to be up, it must be the perfect day outside, and you have to have absolutely no desire to leave your bed. After a subsequent 30-minute nap and at least three personal debates about why it would be best to return to sleep indefinitely, the taste of the bar or last night's other escapades will inevitably drag you to a glass of water and the bathroom - but don't worry, that is about all the effort you'll make for the rest of the day.

Second, walk out of the bathroom and land in that great easy chair that sits just feet from God's gift to the world: the television. If you are lucky like me, that chair will be in the realm of seven to eight steps from the bathroom and will rock back, way back, to simulate still being in bed. If you are barefoot and in sweats or your underwear, add a few bonus points, it doesn't get much better than this. A little preparatory planning will land you the remote (still in between the seat cushion and the arm of the chair) and a bag of Ruffles, your two necessary elements. Since it is too late for breakfast or lunch, and way too early for dinner, chips are the perfect remedy. Trust me.

Next, prepare for a workout. As my roommate has so diligently taught me, the most important aerobic activity you will experience this day is something that takes hand-eye coordination and complete and utter attention: changing the channels. Modeling yourself after masters like Butt-head and Al Bundy, stretch out the fingers by turning on the set and flipping through the low numbers (local networks and community access) and then pause for a moment on the preview channel ... it's your menu, of sorts. And what an entree.

It was absolutely astounding to see what America watches on a Sunday, and I am certainly glad that I didn't wake up any sooner because I have no need for home repentance or a televangelist savior. These crazies who are too lazy to achieve salvation by walking to their nearest place of worship are clearly of my own heart, but how is watching other people save themselves rewarding? I mean, that sounds like those people who order a double cheeseburger, large fries and then a Diet Coke - you just can't save yourself from arterial catastrophe with a concession such as a diet soft drink, and you can't save yourself from eternal damnation from the venue of your La-Z-Boy. So enjoy your sloth and pick a good show.

A movie with guns, bombs or really cool stuff will do. I think I watched "Roxanne" (cool nose and cool jokes), "Real Genius" (cool science stuff), "The Professional" (cool hit man) and "Terminator 2" (just cool in general). Had "Ferris Bueller" or "The Blues Brothers" been on, it would have been bliss, but these were just fine. Then came Olympics reruns.

There is nothing better on television than the Olympics, and I am glad that my jaunt into nonproductiveness occurred as this historic events began in Nagano. You can learn really cool stuff about a place you will never go, hear constant updates on that location's weather and get exposure to lots of sports you never imagined had a place on the worldwide athletic circuit. And thank God for CBS: I got to watch two hours of curling competition, Canada vs. the United States, and now I know why they call it curling, what hitting a stone on the nose is, and exactly why I had never seen it televised before (no sweet wipeouts, no exhilarating speed, no heated interchange and no attacks with iron bars by temperamental athletes).

I also got to learn, from an infomercial of course, how to make a billion dollars by sitting in my own home. At first, I thought, what a great job for me and my roommate. We could make two billion dollars, all while eating nachos and watching Beavis. Then I learned that the true secret to financial success was roping idiotic mid-America into buying your book, "How to make a million dollars like I did, you idiot," and writing a book takes effort, so that is off the list.

Finally, while I was happy to perch myself in gluttonous heaven before the almighty tube, I realized that America is a sick place. Regardless of my patriotism, someone in this land was responsible for making "Porky's," someone decided that George Foreman's "Lean, Mean, Fat-Reducing Grilling Machine" was a good idea and someone designed the "Home Shopping Bonanza," or whatever they call it. TV sure is a fun place, and I am sure I will visit it again, but I don't think it will be to watch curling or to order anything with a cubic zirconia.

- Josh White can reached over e-mail at jswhite@umich.edu.

02-10-98