Summer TV Dearth Calls for Alternative Entertainment

It's summertime during an Olympics year. So basically there's nothing good to watch on TV. I have no interest whatsoever in the over-hyped racket that is the summer games. Reruns of favorite shows only go so far and a person can only binge on so much Netflix before it seems like everything has been watched. I have already finished the entire first season of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. So while Clyde studies Greek on the sofa next to me, I have to find new ways to entertain myself. I reach for the computer and stumble on to:

Old documentaries on YouTube.

Favorites include old films about transportation, the miracle of modern travel by car or train in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s.  There's one about taking a bus from New York to Pittsburgh. What an adventure it is! Everyone is all dressed up - the ladies in dresses, the boys and men in jackets and ties. Everyone is so polite. Everyone is white. Did people really dress like that to take the bus? Of course, other black and white YouTube videos tell me that the really modern way to travel is by plane. Women in the 1940s wear their best furs as they board the sleek, shiny DC-3. The air-hostess pours coffee into a delicate china cup on a dry saucer. There is no hint of turbulence or air-sickness. Only the promise of a four course meal as the trip from one coast to another is cut by three days compared to that silly old-fashioned train on the ground. It certainly doesn't look like flying today, where you bring your own sandwich smashed into your carry-on and the other passengers wear flip-flops and tank tops as they reach over your head to jam their luggage into the overhead bin.

My other favorites are those films made in the early and mid 20th century about "the future" - the year 2000 and beyond. Amazingly, they predict some of our technology pretty accurately. One series done by Walter Cronkite in the 1960s, predicts reading the newspaper online, accessing your office without leaving home, and quickly cooking a meal with a microwave oven. What the futuristic films fail to take into account is the social change that also occurs before the 21st century. For example, in the futuristic kitchen where a meal practically prepares itself, it's always a full time, stay at home housewife in pearls and an apron who pushes the button after she finds out via video-phone what her husband wants for dinner.

It's also fun to watch the old sex education films. To think that some of them are probably still in use today.

I don't just watch old stuff on YouTube.

In light of where Clyde and I are planning to honeymoon next month, I've recently watched some helpful videos on how to be a good tourist in France. For example, I've learned that in restaurants, you don't get the check until you ask for it. Many an American tourist waits and waits and waits for the check, expecting it will just appear like it does at home. It's one of those little differences that leads to unnecessary misunderstanding and frustration between nations.

Just for fun, I decided to look at a video advising visitors to the United States. Do you know what frustrates them more than anything? Is it that we have a myopic world view or don't speak other languages? Is it that we're loud and boastful and think that we own the whole world? Nope. Foreign visitors hate our sales tax. Think about it. The price tag says one thing, but when you go to pay for it, you have to pay more. Wouldn't that just aggravate the hell out of you if you weren't used to it?

You can learn anything from watching YouTube. You can learn how to tie a tie, how to clean your bathroom, or how to make a paper airplane.

When our oven didn't work one night, we found a video about a similar problem on the same model and learned how to fix it. Of course we didn't actually fix the oven because we don't have any tools, but we at least had an idea about what was wrong with it.

I recently stumbled onto a series about personal grooming, including some tips about shaving that my father never taught me. Let's just say that some people groom areas of their bodies these days that Dad probably never thought to do.

I haven't even begun to scratch the surface. There are more hours of entertainment, news, cat videos, and other countless ways to pass summer evenings than I could ever imagine. Who needs to watch the Olympics  on TV anyway? If I want, I can just catch the highlights on YouTube.

Reader Comments

Sometimes the most interesting part of a publication is the reader mail. As a veteran blogger, I am, myself, the grateful recipient of notes from readers. For every BillsWeek entry, there can be anywhere from one reader comment to, oh, more than one. Most come through Facebook, some from the little comment box on the blog itself, and others come in regular email. While I try to respond to each individually, the BillsWeek staff is sometimes a little overwhelmed and I don't always succeed. Plus some are anonymous so I can't respond directly. A sampling follows. In the interest of full disclosure, some of these are paraphrased, a few are combinations of multiple messages, and some I just made up. So here we go.

What advice would you give to an aspiring blogger?

The amazing thing about our internet age is that anyone can publish just any crap they want to, without regard to quality or socially redeeming value. So if you want to blog, go ahead and do it. There's nothing to stop you but shame.

Why do you always write about your stupid cats? Don't you have a life?

Well, to the later question, that's debatable. The answer to the former is that my cats are the cutest and the prettiest, and they are the pillars around which the whole world revolves. If you don't believe me, just ask one of them.

When are you going to go on another extended mystery road trip? It was especially fun to guess where you were by the clues you put on Facebook.

I very much enjoyed my 2010 summer trip through Kentucky, Illinois, and points Midwestern. I hope to do another like it, perhaps up north somewhere. Meanwhile, there are other mysteries I could write about. What will I have for dinner? What's that spot on my neck? Will Jules really marry Grayson?

I'm not so sure we need to hear about all of your deviant life-style choices.

You mean my decision to become Episcopalian? Hey, I don't write about half the deviant stuff I do.

Do you have a good recipe for meatloaf?

Yes.

Why do you always assume that all Republicans are bad people?

I try to avoid using words like "always" and "never." Not all Republicans are bad, just the vast overwhelming majority of them.

Why don't you publish new entries in BillsWeek more often?

I appreciate that you want more. Thank you for the complement. I'll try to do better.

When can we do lunch?

Call me.

I disagree with your assessment about the number of cats portrayed on TV. Please cancel my subscription immediately.

Um... BillsWeek doesn't really have subscriptions, but, uh, I’ll give your request all the consideration it deserves.

Mr. Calkins: Thank you for having your car serviced at Tynan's Nissan. Please click below to take a customer satisfaction survey.

Done.

I notice that you sometimes end sentences with a preposition. That is improper. You need to set a better example.

Language is a tool that helps us to communicate, and it is best when communication occurs in a standard form so that we can understand each other. Sometimes, however, the tyranny of the language experts who delight in correcting what everyone else says becomes oppressive and even interferes with communication. Perhaps, more succinctly, I should just say, bite me.

You often say that we are living in the future. What does that mean?

Ah, young readers, what times we live in (yes, I wrote that for the benefit of the previous commentor). Imagine a world where we carry our phones with us everywhere we go. From a 1970s perspective (the 1970s were my formative years), that's pretty futuristic. In other words, I'm old. I came of age in the last century. The year 2012 was once impossibly far away, and now, amazingly, we are here.

 So there you have it dear readers. I hope you are as stimulated by this exchange of ideas as I am. Keep those comments coming! You never know - you might see yourself in the blog someday.