Turning on the television is when the drama starts
HARDLY ever watch television these days. Well, not proper telly. Can be a bit embarrassing at times, especially when people get excited, telling me about a new show they are watching that I just have to watch. Hmm.
When I admit to avoiding modern TV whenever possible, things tends to get a tad awkward.
Having said that, I do still watch a few shows. Ones about motorbikes or antiques, for instance, or bargain-loving Brits in the sun. Or better yet, ancient reruns of old sitcoms. Basically, I’m happy to watch shows that don’t feature politics, correctness or the minefield of millennial sensitivities.
Reason being, my life is stressful enough without watching other people’s problems being paraded across the screen for general amusement. Got quite enough death, disease, divorce and disaster in my real life, thanks. No need to add to it by watching shows that focus on unhappiness. Either real or imagined. If you are wondering what got me thinking about all this, let me explain.
Last week a few of us were in a caravan by the seaside. Very nice it was too. The weather was kind, the sea was balmy and life was everything it ought to be, on a late summer holiday. It was one of those weeks when you wish the world would stop, so you can enjoy the moment for as long as possible. Squeeze out as much pleasure as the day can bring.
It was while feeling suitably chilled and content with life that we made a fatal mistake. Sigh. We turned on the telly. There wasn’t much choice by way of channels, so we ended up sticking to the same one all night. Things started well with a show all about the Mississippi river. Very nice it was too. Can’t beat a bit of riverside documentary. I’ve always had a soft spot for shows about places and animals. In my earlier life, I spent several years writing TV scripts for nature shows. So I tend to watch them these days with a sort of half professional eye. This one got a definite thumbs-up from me. When it finished, we put the kettle on, had a chat and then settled down to see what was coming on next. Which is when the trouble started.
Next up on the schedule was a show about water. Clean water. The sort we use for drinking and watering crops. Which set alarm bells ringing straight away. You see, having written some shows like this, there is one thing I am sure of. When it comes to the natural environment and humans, there is no good news. None. So options for scripts are limited. Either you close one eye, face away from the truth and write an upbeat, mostly fictional, account of the subject. Or you tell it like it is.
This show decided to go for the truth, the whole truth and nothing sugar-coated about it. Basically, we’re running out of clean water. Half the world relies on water that is pumped from underground aquifers. Thing is, they take ages to fill and we are rapidly running them dry. When they go, we’re in trouble. Big trouble. As the programme makers helpfully pointed out. No one knows what to do about it. All of which sounds absolutely true and also, completely depressing. By the time the closing credits appeared I was begging for the misery to end.
Trouble is, the next show followed a bunch of people in Russia who do weird and wacky things in their garages. To be honest, I could cope with the weird and wackiness. One of them dug a mine shaft, another carved religious icons and a group played punk. All of which was fine and dandy. It was the people that broke my heart. Or rather, their stories. Like all of us, these folk lead complex lives. With plenty of drama, darkness and difficulty along the way. The simple message of the show seemed to be that you can dig, carve or sing, but you can’t escape the unrelenting horror of life.
Which, speaking purely selfishly, is hardly the sort of message I am looking for in late evening television entertainment. It’s not an uplifting thought to take to bed. Practically gave me nightmares. Also reminded me why I don’t watch modern TV, or the news. It’s all far too downbeat. Too miserable.
So, from now on, I’m sticking to my simple shows about motorbikes, antiques and bargain-loving Brits. If only someone would make a show about cheap antique motorbikes in the sun, ah. Now that would be a happy show worth watching!
Hope you and yours are safe, well and happy.
Until next time, all the best.