No TV and Wimbledon 2009

Since moving to SF I haven't owned a TV. 

Growing up the rhythm of many afternoons and evenings revolved around television.  In elementary school I'd be home by 4:00 PM, just in time for syndicated re-runs of Diff'rent Strokes, Gimme a Break, and Three's Company.  7-8 PM featured two straight episodes of M*A*S*H, and I would usually fold the family's laundry as I watched.  I was a night owl back then, so at 11:30 I could choose between a third daily dose of M*A*S*H or Cheers. 

And let's not forget Nick at Nite,  which allowed viewing of the Mary Tyler Moore Show and The Bob Newhart Show.  When I wanted to feel sophisticated I'd skip these two and watch thirtysomething.  When I wanted to feel like a misunderstood youth, there was the Wonder Years.

Then I went to college, where I lost most interest in television.  My friends and I gathered to watch the lame finale of Seinfeld in 1998, but I never made a point of watching it week by week.  At Northwestern I moved the TV faithfully to each new dorm room year after year, and then barely turned it on.  I mostly liked the built in VCR, which allowed me to watch movies rented from Kneeland Brothers Video.

After college I mostly watched David Letterman and Frasier.  Helen and I never had full cable--no Nick at Nite for us--relying on rabbit ears until we moved to Washington DC in 2o02 (Helen still wanted to use them then, but I argued that basic cable would finally give us a decent picture.)  In New York City I really got into watching Charlie Rose, because I fantasized that I'd be on the show someday. 

I never had TiVo or used the VCR for recording, preferring the antiquated model that the only way to see a show was to be at home to watch it when it aired.  Growing up I made time for the shows, but from college forward that was a choice I became less and less willing to make (one exception: Helen and I both tried to watch The Practice every Sunday night, because it was the one show we both consistently liked.)  So it wasn't that big a stretch to go from "minor TV" to no TV at all when I moved to San Francisco. 

I know that Hulu and YouTube exist, but it's not the same as watching TV.  These days I only miss it when something enormous happens--such as Michael Jackson's death, when I did wonder how TV was covering it (but was also grateful not to be surrounded by the news, which after all I could still see online or on my phone and hear about on the radio.)   I also miss it during major sporting events, such as today's epic Wimbledon final between Roger Federer and Andy Roddick.  

This morning I was eating breakfast while fiddling with Facebook on the phone, and a friend's status update simply said "roddick!"  (Federer won, but Roddick made him earn it.)  I hurried to finish my omelette and hash browns, and went off in search of a sports bar to watch the final set.  But it was only 10:30 AM, and no sports bar was open.  I eventually came home, called up the Wimbledon web site, and listened to the final points of the match on Radio Wimbledon.

Our family went to Myrtle Beach for many summers growing up, and the vacation always coincided with Wimbledon.  I would make an appearance at the beach in the morning, and soon head back upstairs to the hotel room to watch the matches.  Eventually I learned just how dauntingly hard tennis is to play well, when I tried my hand at it in high school.  But during those summers it was fun to indulge fantasies that I'd make it to the hallowed grass courts someday.  (In 2003 Helen and I were in London during the championships, and wandered the grounds eating strawberries and cream.)  I've had a special place in my heart for Wimbledon ever since--the US Open in Flushing Meadows was a wonderful local attraction when I lived in New York, but it's not the same.

Hence my quest to watch the championship match today.  (In April I watched the North Carolina-Michigan State NCAA basketball championship at the Elixir Saloon in the Mission, so it's not just tennis.)  Every year "Wimbledon" makes me remember Myrtle Beach and those long ago summers.

Of course, with a TV at home my access to Wimbledon and everything else would be much simpler.  I suppose it will happen again someday, but for now I'm just fine without TV, overall. There is always NPR or music to listen to, and books or online articles to read.  With NPR and music it's easy to do something else at the same time, and reading is generally more mentally refreshing than watching TV (depending on what you watch, of course.) 

I know I'm losing out on some of the cultural references encoded in John Stewart or Stephen Colbert,  but all the funniest bits wind up on Facebook anyway.  

So it's so far, so good in no TV nation; I'll keep you posted. 

Comments

[Lisa]

We sold our TV in a garage sale a couple of years ago, after several years of it sitting on the file cabinet, unplugged, until something like the presidential debates, Wimbledon, etc. prompted us to bring it out and fiddle with the antenna. We were in a similar boat this weekend, of wondering "which parents' house do we go to? what time do the bars open?" We eventually found a site that sold streaming access (we watched the men's final with no commercials--Tim Henman and Boris Becker were commentating). They cover other majors too, but I won't tell you what it is unless you really want me to...(you could probably find it...). You know, for the U.S Open.

[psyche543@aol.com]

HMMM. I am so totally not a TV person and have not been for a long time! In fact , the last thing I remember consistently watching was the old Boston Blackie Show.You may recall. He was a rather loosely put together detective. Those were likely reruns.. I thought he had a certain rumpled class and charm..

I make no claim to be living a life without entertainment obsessions.I have been obsessed with books forever. More recently I have shifted that obsession to the internet.I pray for a shift to exercise!

Ah well.Beam me up Scotty..not much conversational life here of late! I do understand that everything comes to he who waits...she in this case.
Love
Aunt Linda