Is it possible to run a happy home without a television? Caroline Cleaves puts it to the test.
Published: 3:32PM GMT 20 Nov 2009
My husband and I usually begin a discussion about how television is poisoning our lives after watching something like The Man Whose Arms Exploded.
“That just debased the human race.”
“Let’s get rid of the television.”
“OK, let’s.”
Then Top Gear comes on the next night and we lose traction.
It’s not just that there isn’t anything watchable. It’s more a matter of creep. Like bindweed, television has become a slow and steady progression until it fills up the empty spaces and becomes a default mode we slip into out of inertia and habit.
But we’re not addicts. We have only one set and it’s in the living room. Our children’s habit is similarly modest: just one hour a day. Except when we’re trying to sleep in on Saturdays and my five-year-old, Sam, gets a three-hour dose of Power Rangers and something else that causes him to karate chop the furniture.
I wonder each night, as we switch it off, what else I could have done with my time? Is Ten Years Younger a relaxing and naughty treat? Or is it electronic schadenfreude? Do any of the programmes we watch enhance the quality of our lives? Increasingly we answer “no”.
The turning point comes when Sam tells me, helpfully, that Vanish gets clothes much whiter than other detergents. When you receive unsolicited laundry advice from a child who can’t yet dress himself, it’s time to admit they are paying closer attention than you think.
Will we survive? With no television, what could I possibly do with my husband after the children went to bed? He suggests chess. And sex. What if we discover we don’t have anything in common anymore?
“What did kids do in the olden times, before they had TV?” Sam wonders.
“They made their own fun. Just like mummy used to,” I growl. “Go make a sock puppet.” I sound like some demented character from The Waltons – a programme I watched as a child, when television was good for you.
Day One
I phone the television licensing office to tell them we’ve decided not to renew our licence. “That’s fine,” answers a polite man, who warns me that if we own any equipment that receives a television signal, we could be fined £1,000. “Don’t you want to know why?” I ask, eager to share my new philosophy of quality family time. “No,” he replies. “Just make sure you know the rules. And expect a visit from a compliance officer.” Bring it on baby!
The morning heralds great things. With no Fireman Sam to impede us, we arrive at school 20 minutes early. After school we make fairy cakes; a wholesome, if brief, activity. Fortunately, cleaning up consumes another 45 minutes so that’s the afternoon accounted for. Then we read some books. After dinner, we take a hot tub (I never claimed we were ascetics), read some more books, and the children go to bed – 45 minutes earlier than usual.
Day Two >> Read Full Article
