I'm a mad, pitiful social freak

[willy_ph]

I found this article on the Toronto Star website. I found it quite humourous. Pretty much summed up my life in residence last year at university.

I'm a mad, pitiful social freak — I have no TV


CHRISTOPHER HUTSUL

Sometimes people say, "I don't have a television," in a snobby way. They say it as if TV was the dirtiest word ever, as if expressive dance, abstract art and Tibetan haikus are the only valid cultural entities.

But when I say, "I don't have a television," I say it sheepishly. Like some freak of modern life. It's embarrassing.

I haven't had one since I moved two months ago, and I've already slipped out of the pop culture loop.

I can't even make disparaging remarks about all that obnoxious programming out there. And isn't that the fabric of contemporary social interaction?

I'm planning on getting one soon, but until then ....

Well, there's a lot of pacing happening in my apartment. And when I'm not walking in circles, I stare at a spot on my wall — the spot where I'll put my TV when I finally get around to picking one up.

Sometimes I stare out my window and gaze upon the sublime theatre of life. But there isn't much going on out there. Of course, there are my Portuguese neighbours. They're sitting by their windows too, staring back at me. They must not have TVs either.

When I grow weary of this staring competition, I sift through my comic book collection. But that pastime only serves to alienate me further.

I end up being that annoying guy at the party who says: "You know, Ghost World was a comic book first and it was way better than the movie."

But I'm not totally disconnected. I have Web access.

Dial-up Web access. Remember that?

The computer is hooked up to the stereo, so that crackling info-flood modem sound screams through the place. As one of my designer buddies said, "It sounds like 1996 in here."

Yeah, the Web is no substitute for TV. I check my e-mail a hundred times a day, and four years later, still no reply from Lisa Loeb.

Mind you, there is a certain thrill that comes with having access to almost every Webcast on the planet. At 1 a.m., while others are falling asleep to the rouge glow of Conan O'Brien, I'm glued to international talk radio.

Go ahead, ask me about rush hour traffic in Johannesburg.

The girls upstairs take pity and invite me to watch their TV once in a while. And instantly, I become a salivating buffoon (because of the TV, you cheeky monkeys).

They flick channels, from drama to drama, and I wait for a glimpse of hockey.

Just a crumb will do.

Sometimes, they say, "Hutsul, wanna take the remote?"

And I'm all casual, like, "Yeah, sure man," but inside, every grain of my soul is burning for that clicker.

I coolly nab it, and hit Sportsnet, TSN and Headline Sports. But my hosts are unimpressed. Their disgusted faces are saying, "Um, could we go back to Law And Order, please?"

So I shuffle back downstairs and check my e-mail. Still nothing from Loeb. I know! I'll call my pa in B.C. for some hockey talk.

"Ahh yes, son, it's a good life," he says. "I'm gonna sit down with a glass of 15-year-old scotch and enjoy the Canucks game. Yep, I'll tell ya, son, a beautiful life."

"Well," I sigh. "I'm planning on listening to the game on the Internet and drinking a glass of two-week-old milk."

Let me say, streaming media on a dial-up connection is a half-baked experience. It sounds tinny and compressed, like a castrated Optimus Prime doing play-by-play from Neptune.

"Naslund, over to Bertuzzi, 10 seconds left — they need this one to tie — he centres it to Sedin, Sedin shoots —"

Silence. Buffering.

So, I just chill out on my sofa and enjoy the stillness of it all. But all I hear is an incessant trickling of water in my radiator.

If I concentrate, I can persuade myself the sound is relaxing, like a babbling brook in some enchanted forest. Other times, it's Chinese water torture, and it gives me an eye-twitch.

Then I say, "Get a grip on yourself, boy, it's a babbling brook, not some obscure form of torture that may or may not have Chinese origins. A babbling brook, dammit!"

Lately, I've been trying to break the cycle of madness by inviting my buddies over. Sure, they drink all my beer and eat all my food (you know who you are), but I like having them around.

And a funny thing happens. We talk. Chitchat, natter, banter, tease and giggle. Sometimes we even debate. All that human interaction eats away at this de-politicized zombie the televised world has worked so hard to create. It will do so until I pick up a television ....

And Ms. Loeb, you can choose to delay our inevitable union as long as you please. Because when my shiny new Trinitron is placed in that empty spot, you'll be the last thing on my mind.

I've got a date with Sportsdesk at 11:30 p.m.

[TheBurningCat]

I'm not sure if I can relate. I have 6 TV's not including the tv tuner in the computer....

I'm watching Jerry Springer ATM! Let the learning experance begin!

[Blood_Luster]

"Sometimes I stare out my window and gaze upon the sublime theatre of life. But there isn't much going on out there. Of course, there are my Portuguese neighbours. They're sitting by their windows too, staring back at me. They must not have TVs either."

ROFL! that's funny.

Ehh, I'm lucky... I have a TV... though I don't watch it nearly as much as my age group does, it's still fun. I only really watch Adult Swim, and infomercials, Simpsons, CSI, thats pretty much it.

[NeoStarO1]

haha that is good, I can relate. The guy is a great writer too. really brings you right into it. Guess that college is paying off after all.