grab the remote

For my second ever guest post on the Intramuralist, I wish to explore the often over-looked values of television, a medium that receives a lot of bad press from those smug people who are oh-so sneaky by saying they “don’t own a television” (like we don’t know what Netflix and Hulu are). We all know of the dangers of TV, that it makes kids fat and promotes immorality and will make you go blind if you sit too close (just one of those things your grandma tells you that you believe before realizing it’s crap). We all know TV is everywhere, that Americans watch too much of it, that it has a huge impact on society/culture/the universe, and that it is linked to the rise in violence in teenagers, infidelity in adults, and swearing in infants. My response:  whatever. Not that these points aren’t important, it’s just that every single thing on this earth can either be used destructively or beneficially (see money, sex, power, fame, sports, imagination, fire, pit bulls, kale), and people like to focus on the bad about TV and neglect the good. For the purpose of this very serious and academic article (/end sarcasm) I am going to focus primarily on how I have found TV to be a valuable tool for bettering your life — not that I won’t throw in something political every now and then.

Let’s start with a little case study of my own life, because what reader doesn’t like a long personal history of the writer in the middle of an article? I’ve had my bout with health problems the past couple years. When I spent last summer stuck in bed, many people asked me if I was spending my time reading loads of great books. People who asked this question have an idyllic view of what pain is like (a view I still adopt now when thinking of my plans for future flare-ups). It doesn’t mean you get to spend the day curled up with a good book; it means you’re laying in bed trying to find the least uncomfortable position, counting down until the next dose of pain killers, and reminding yourself to stop grinding your teeth. I had already spent many days like this when my internship-less, job-less, plan-less summer began. Without even knowing the medical use of distraction for non-chemical pain management (a phrase I recently learned in summer school — huzzah! knowledge!), I discovered TV:  a way I could almost escape the throbbing and burning and the giant elephant sitting on my chest… a way I could still sort of experience a “normal life” (i.e.: what I called anything that wasn’t spending a few months of the “best years of my life” in bed). I could watch relationships, adventures, and life unfold for fictional characters that couldn’t judge me for my back, elbow, and wrist braces, or fear me like I’m going to infest them with a brain-eating parasite. I didn’t have to put effort into conversation or hide my pain or even wear a bra, but I could still observe human interactions (or actors’ interpretations of writers’ imaginings of human interactions, which is probably more realistic than reality TV depicting strangers trying to survive together in the wilderness without supplies or clothes — aka reality TV). But most of all:  TV can be downright funny. There is no better painkiller than watching absurd people do and say absurd things.

Besides its medicinal purposes, television has another power that is largely overlooked by its naysayers:  it brings people together. I noticed this phenomenon in my own family and how we spend the precious time when we’re all together. When all of my siblings reconvene at my parents house after a few months of not seeing one another, on our first evening together there are two things that are bound to happen:  we eat a delicious meal together, and we either talk about or watch TV together. Why would a family waste precious together time that happens only a few times a year on watching TV? To my family, watching TV is pretty recreational. We don’t just stare at the screen, we interact with each other and the characters by laughing together, repeating the funny lines during commercial breaks, and discussing who will be kicked off this episode of “Master Chef” (usually determined by how little drama the person adds to the show, how much they were featured in the episode compared to previous episodes, and the quality of the food which we deduce by how much we like them as a human being). Weeks after a night together, few families still remember and laugh about their game of Monopoly, but we still laugh at what we saw together on TV. We have all heard that TV can tear people apart as it replaces communication and relationships, but it seems like we have fostered our familial bond through our common love for a few TV shows — we randomly text each other funny quotes that often open communication when we’re hundreds of miles apart. My older sister and I even have an ongoing “Dick Van Dyke Show” trivia game that goes back years (bet you didn’t know one of the show’s few inconsistencies is Laura having two maiden names). I will simply text her a question that I come up with, and if she cannot answer it, I win. What other family is as cool as that?

For me, TV isn’t a mindless way to escape my problems and waste away my life. It’s my drug of choice, a tool I use to stay connected with the people I love the most, and a way to explore new ideas and opinions that I disagree with or haven’t thought about. While TV is often unrealistic and is indeed only a group of writers’ thoughts, it can still show you that maybe you don’t have it all figured out. NBC’s drama “Parenthood” brings up many difficult topics in a way that makes you think, teaches you empathy for the struggling characters, and demonstrates that maybe the hardest issues are more than a black and white “anti” or “pro.” What makes USA’s “Psych” interesting is not as much the running jokes or goofy characters, but the struggle of a man who never takes anything seriously as he confronts very serious topics. You laugh at Shawn and his lighthearted antics while together you confront heartbreak, risk-taking, sacrifice, love, friendship, and our own mortality. Shows like “Parenthood” and “Psych,” while one a drama and the other about as goofy as you can get, both lead the audience to think about important things that we must all confront.

If you look at the cover of almost any TV show ad, you always see the same thing: a group of people… people who have backstories, problems, struggles, and relationships just like you or me, and these are the foundation of any genre of show, movie, book, story, or real-life human interaction. Relationships are the heart of both TV and our lives. They are often messy, come with both struggle and laughter, and are the most relatable thing in any story because we all cherish them. Television shows capitalize on the fact that no two humans are alike by examining the clash of different people who either choose or are forced to go through life together, despite their many differences. “Community,” recently picked up by Yahoo as a web series, explores and pokes fun at the clashes of race, religion, orientation, class, and age through a randomly assembled study group by making you laugh as you cringe. The best part of the show is how it manages to do all of this while exploring what it means to be a classmate, a friend, and a fellow-human being (the mascot of the community college where the comedy takes place is fittingly a Human Being). [See video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iE8meUf0qCM.]

TV is a tool that I use for many purposes. When my health gets worse, I use it to lower my pain with laughter and distraction. Other times I use it to connect with the people I love. It exposes me to new ideas, opening a door to study them more. But what draws everyone to it is what it says about relationships — very different individuals learning to protect and strengthen the bond between them. One of the best examples of this is the caricatures of a libertarian government employee and his pro-government second-in-command, Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope, respectively, and their friendship told on “Parks and Recreation.” Leslie and Ron are not friends because they are alike; in fact, they clash on almost every single issue and topic and attitude (except breakfast food — they both love breakfast food), but they maintain their strong friendship through mutual respect and admiration. I think this is what the Intramuralist is all about — respecting people and their opinions — not because you agree with them, but because they are human. TV is a fun activity that can entertain a bedridden, braless, teeth-grinding teenager, as well as a large group of people who may not have much in common. It allows people to come together in a way very few things can — when a goal is scored in the World Cup, a whole country jumps up and cheers. TV should never replace relationships, but it can be a tool to bring people together and remind us to have respect and love for others. I think TV can teach us to do what Jeff said in the clip from “Community” above:  to extend the same compassion to one another that we give to sharks, pencils, and Ben Affleck. It’s easy to talk about the vices of television and see it as a mindless time waster, but it’s way more than that. It’s time for TV to be seen not as an evil but as a tool that can be used for many different goods. So throw away that book and grab the remote; it’s time to watch more TV.

Respectfully…

B