Television Over Christmas
It was a neighbour who said to me that television over Christmas was rubbish. That comment dates us oldies. Would he have said the same if he was on Sky? I doubt that youngsters with music, mobiles and streaming would say that. It harks back to the days when Morecambe and Wise were Christmas. It was a time when crackers didn’t represent an environmental catastrophe. Now, one pull, a crack and another pile of unrecyclable waste.
My Christmas television is now different because it reflects my aging senses. Flashing lights and loud noise really annoy me. More than one person speaking at a time and music playing in the background when somebody is speaking is no better. Neither do I like mumbling actors, gratuitous sex and bad language. As you can imagine, my list of programmes is shrinking by the day. That said, there was ample slow television, wildlife and music on the box.
The sound bar
Ann and I recently indulged in a new television with an OLED screen. Wildlife now leaps out at us as if in the room. Also, we did not realise how much better the added sound bar would prove to be. We can click a little button stating voice and the spoken word is more clear. Our sensory failings are helped by modern technology. My pagan ancestor Zuri in 2200 BC would have have been terrified to see cheetahs on a screen. But, she would have died well before her hearing began to fail.
Television over Christmas
In conclusion, I did enjoy the box. Sometimes, even a single programme can make you appreciate the medium. For instance, the actor Adrian Dunbar spent an entire hour on the Irish writer Samuel Beckett. It was calm and scholarly, treating the viewer like an intelligent being. Am I sounding pompous? This was the universal story of a writer moving from rural community to a liberal society, in this case, gay Paree. It reminded me that we are all waiting for godot.