It’s obvious that I don’t really keep up with my own blog. I always find something “better” to do than spend any time on my own site. As a side note to myself, I really need to get on more often if only to clear out the spam messages that pile up behind the scenes. Good grief, that took some time!
So, why am I writing this post? Well, I guess it’s because I couldn’t find something better to do with my time. That, of course, got me thinking about why it appears that I have all this time right now. Have I created some magical spell that gives me more time than I previously had? Have I discovered a portal to a dimension that offers to slow time down so that I appear to have more time on my hands than before? Perhaps the laws of physics no longer apply to my little corner of the world. It’s none of those things and, in some ways, all of those things.
Let us address the magical spell first. It was not some ancient incantation, but it was in some ways the waving of a magic wand. That is, those who would be unfamiliar with a television remote control might think it a magic wand. I waved it in the direction of the television, pressed one button, and POOF! Images that were flashing across the glass disappeared in an instant as if my magic!
As for the discovery of a portal that grants me more time, I would say it was the opposite. Rather than open a portal that grants more time, I have closed a portal that wastes it. Now, don’t get me wrong! I do not mean to disparage television itself; I am merely indicating that for myself, it has become a portal that, when opened, sucks time away from me. Thus, by closing the portal, I have regained that which it had previously taken from me.
As for the laws of physics, well, Einstein said that time was relative. And time passes relatively quickly when you spend your evenings staring at a magic piece of glass that throws illusions and fantasies at you one after the other. Worse is when they are the same illusions and fantasies over and over again. The common name for these are reruns.
This is why I cannot and will not disparage television completely. Not only can it be incredibly entertaining, but it also can be informative. I have watched countless programs in my time that have enlightened and educated. Even fictional sitcoms can have a message if you want to see it. The problem is that it was becoming more and more about watching that which I had already seen. Over and over and over. In between bouts of repeated illusions and fantasies, I was reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Timequake. If you have not read it, I highly recommend it. I had forgotten what a singular wit he had. Not to spoil anything from the book, it essentially details a timequake that occurred in which the universe chose to shrink for a bit rather than expand. In doing so, it forced all of humanity (and presumably the rest of the universe) to live the previous ten years over again. The kicker was that you could not change things that had already happened. Thus, everyone was essentially on autopilot, watching the last ten years of their lives play out once more. As I’m reading this book, it hit be like the proverbial ton of bricks: I was on autopilot watching the same stories play out, stories I had already experienced. Worse, I had experienced most of them many more times than once. Even the one nightly ritual that I considered my intellectual viewing, Jeopardy, was sometimes a repeat.
I had allowed my life to return to a state of autopilot. I say “return” because, of course, I had made an extreme effort just five years ago to pull myself out of that autopilot rut. It allowed me to finish the book I had had in the back of my mind for twenty years or more (see below for more information on that). When I disrupted my autopilot, I found I could do any number of things. Time was back in my hands.
And that leads me to my current “experiment.” I call it an experiment because, frankly, isn’t everything we do in life an experiment of one sort or another? We experiment with alcohol or drugs, we test the waters with new friends, we try out a new Thai restaurant. Even the big events–job, school, marriage–are just more great experiments in our journey. As it happens, some experiments fail while others continue on to new and undiscovered adventures.
I am currently on Day Eight of the Great Television Blackout Experiment.
That doesn’t seem like a very long time yet. But you’d be surprised how long it can be. Remember, time is relative. This feels like a relatively long time already. When you’re used to turning on the television almost as soon as you walk in the door, when meals are spent sitting in front of the television, when the sound of the television is the background noise of your life, it becomes an amazing thing to try to dismiss it. The house gets quiet (I live alone), I sit at my kitchen table to eat, and the physical act of turning on the television becomes a deliberate act that requires constant avoidance. At the moment, I am fascinated by its absence in my free time. I am also astonished by what has truly become “free time.” I think I knew but never fully understood how I have been scheduling my so-called free time around television. I had certain shows I would watch at certain times or on certain days. For example, 7:30 every evening was Jeopardy! Nothing else filled that time slot. Then it would be on to watch some syndicated sitcom or other until “prime time” when I might see something original to me. I would watch until it was time to retire and maybe read a bit before going to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat nearly every single night.
Weekends, of course, were the worst. Rather than anything useful or required, I would oftentimes find myself vegetating in front of the television for hours. I might even spend most of the time just channel surfing if I found nothing to really watch. What an incredible waste of time! I will admit that this past Saturday and Sunday concerned me. Would I be able to do it and stick to my plan? Or would I revert to the couch potato (or in my case, recliner potato) that I seemed to become. Happily, I was able to, for the most part, stick to my guns even when I had told myself I would allow myself a movie Saturday night. I ended up going to bed early and never did tunr on the television.
“What do you mean ‘for the most part?'” I hear you ask.
A couple of weeks earlier, I had schedule an appointment for a platelet donation. For those of you who have never done it, the process can take up to two hours and you’re stuck lying on the donation bed for all that time. The blood center does provide a television for donors to watch, which helps pass the time. So, in this case, I did choose to watch a movie on Netflix because my time was already spent, so to speak. The movie just provided a distraction. It would have been a different story if I could have done something else during the donation period, but lying there was all I could do. Yes, I could have read a book instead, but with one arm immobile it would have made turning pages a bit tough. And imagine if I had dropped it! The staff would have to get it for me and I’d have to find my place, etc., etc. It was just easier to watch a movie and be done with it. (For what it’s worth, it was an awful movie. I cannot recommend Geostorm at all; I think I would have rather fought to read a book instead. I’ll note that for next time.)
So the experiment will continue, at least for now. The fact that I’ve found the time to write this blog post shows that I can have the time if I choose to use it wisely. I’ve also started writing again, which was one of the main objectives of this experiment. Nothing earth-shattering yet, but you never know.