Post by aniram on Dec 20, 2007 16:12:07 GMT 10
www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22925830-5000117,00.html
HOW to justify watching TV for six hours on a Sunday afternoon.
Besides the Bathurst 1000, or a full afternoon of horse racing, or the AFL Grand Final, or any other extensive sporting event that is played out over four to six hours, how can you really justify spending six hours in front of the telly on a Sunday afternoon?
Don't get me wrong.
I absolutely loooovvvve TV. Not as much as I used to, sure. I still can't watch CSI Miami or Australian Idol or Border Security or The Bill.
But I can watch Boston Legal, Newstopia, Nightline, with the sultry Michael Usher, and Playschool, even when kids aren't around.
But I do love it. And for all its faults, it is one of the most easy and indulgent methods of relaxing when it is just you making the decisions. When you only have to appease yourself. Not your partner, wife, husband, parent, relative, housemate, friend, sibling, offspring, one-night fling.
This is the TV we are talking about. This is not just some fly-by-nighter with a trendy white earphone cord.
This is, dare I say it, one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends. He doesn't judge.
He doesn't question.
He doesn't tut.
He doesn't scorn.
He doesn't condescend.
He's not facetious. He doesn't sigh and say those annoying things like "Oh well. I guess you know what you're doing."
He's always there. Always reliable.
Giving you a warm and a cozy feeling of utmost security and familiarity. Some people apparently just have it on all day, every day, and they might not start to pay attention to it until the evening. Much like talk radio.
There was a brilliant line in Sylvania Waters, the fly-on-the-wall reality series focusing on a family living in a Patterson Lakes-type suburb outside Sydney.
The patriarch of the family in one scene, was walking briskly through the lounge area and was heard to say "What's the television doing off! It's like a bloody morgue in here!"
You have to do it. It'll be fun.
Even if just once.
Put it in the diary. Make plans for it. Winter is an excellent time obviously.
But summer too can be a good time with those hideous days of 40-plus.
Get all those DVDs together you have been meaning to watch. Spend some time getting the TV viewing room absolutely perfect. Clean the TV screen.
Wipe the greasy smears off the remote control. And take a loooong and lumbering tilt backwards into your favourite television chair and let the dulcet tones of this magnificent animal caress your every easily amused capillary.
It's actually getting you a bit excited even as we speak isn't it?
How about the last season of The West Wing? Or The Sopranos?
Or the entire boxed set of the hilarious BBC comedy series Keeping up Appearances.
The whole world's not going to cave in. It's not going to hurt anybody. It's not going to become suddenly clearer why people think $1.45 is a fair price for a litre of petrol if you don't watch the telly for a few innocent hours.
So go on. Treat yourself.
Turn on the telly and soak up its perfect disposition.
Unless of course you get the phone call five minutes in and someone invites you to a barbecue that afternoon, where you might get the chance to meet the people who sing "Keep your eyes open for a bargain. Car City!"
And it's at Michael Usher's house.
COLIN LANE is a comedian and actor
HOW to justify watching TV for six hours on a Sunday afternoon.
Besides the Bathurst 1000, or a full afternoon of horse racing, or the AFL Grand Final, or any other extensive sporting event that is played out over four to six hours, how can you really justify spending six hours in front of the telly on a Sunday afternoon?
Don't get me wrong.
I absolutely loooovvvve TV. Not as much as I used to, sure. I still can't watch CSI Miami or Australian Idol or Border Security or The Bill.
But I can watch Boston Legal, Newstopia, Nightline, with the sultry Michael Usher, and Playschool, even when kids aren't around.
But I do love it. And for all its faults, it is one of the most easy and indulgent methods of relaxing when it is just you making the decisions. When you only have to appease yourself. Not your partner, wife, husband, parent, relative, housemate, friend, sibling, offspring, one-night fling.
This is the TV we are talking about. This is not just some fly-by-nighter with a trendy white earphone cord.
This is, dare I say it, one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends. He doesn't judge.
He doesn't question.
He doesn't tut.
He doesn't scorn.
He doesn't condescend.
He's not facetious. He doesn't sigh and say those annoying things like "Oh well. I guess you know what you're doing."
He's always there. Always reliable.
Giving you a warm and a cozy feeling of utmost security and familiarity. Some people apparently just have it on all day, every day, and they might not start to pay attention to it until the evening. Much like talk radio.
There was a brilliant line in Sylvania Waters, the fly-on-the-wall reality series focusing on a family living in a Patterson Lakes-type suburb outside Sydney.
The patriarch of the family in one scene, was walking briskly through the lounge area and was heard to say "What's the television doing off! It's like a bloody morgue in here!"
You have to do it. It'll be fun.
Even if just once.
Put it in the diary. Make plans for it. Winter is an excellent time obviously.
But summer too can be a good time with those hideous days of 40-plus.
Get all those DVDs together you have been meaning to watch. Spend some time getting the TV viewing room absolutely perfect. Clean the TV screen.
Wipe the greasy smears off the remote control. And take a loooong and lumbering tilt backwards into your favourite television chair and let the dulcet tones of this magnificent animal caress your every easily amused capillary.
It's actually getting you a bit excited even as we speak isn't it?
How about the last season of The West Wing? Or The Sopranos?
Or the entire boxed set of the hilarious BBC comedy series Keeping up Appearances.
The whole world's not going to cave in. It's not going to hurt anybody. It's not going to become suddenly clearer why people think $1.45 is a fair price for a litre of petrol if you don't watch the telly for a few innocent hours.
So go on. Treat yourself.
Turn on the telly and soak up its perfect disposition.
Unless of course you get the phone call five minutes in and someone invites you to a barbecue that afternoon, where you might get the chance to meet the people who sing "Keep your eyes open for a bargain. Car City!"
And it's at Michael Usher's house.
COLIN LANE is a comedian and actor