12 Jan 2011

Dear Car Crash TV (Part 1)

Once upon a time, when I lived in England, in the big smog (not that of London Town, but Manchester up North), I had a pretty hectic lifestyle that involved long commutes to and from work (and generally to anywhere worth its pzzazz as I lived in the deep suburban belt). Those familiar with the major British cities will also be aware of their extended (sprawling) suburbia (of course relatively short and condensed by L.A. standards, but still...).

Early portable television set, available to buy from Vintage Looks
On the job front, I went through a spell of long unsociable hours, with personal time I would have liked to call my own dedicated to the work cause, not necessarily of my own accord but when you work in marketing/ advertising, or for the European headquarters of an American IT company with a pulse resonating right across Silicon Valley, it is kinda taken as the norm.

Anyway those long home-work-home commutes interspersed with overstretched working days and after-work-with-work socialising left little time for free time and meant homelife was doubly precious. And although life out with friends was important too, I went through a several-month spell when all I (sadly - yet -) understandably yearned for was to just get home, slip into my favourite casualwear, raid the cupboards for a quick bite, and then flop in front of the TV (I - of all people - for I was no TV addict, I must confess!).

Fuel for thought!

Sometimes I'd stretch my multi-tasking skills to the computer, catching up with friends on email or MSN, checking the celebrity goss (!), or on the phone for hours on end...

With a keyboard in one hand and a cordless phone in the other, combined to fatigue, a frazzled yet wound-up mind, that end-of-day short attention span, and a brain on the verge of shutting down till morning, I wasn't necessarily enclined to stay put on the couch through a full feature-film, or concentrate on one of those serious intelligent TV (art, history, biology, zoology, criminology, etc.) documentaries that I would only enjoy in a rested state of mind and with time on my hands (no guilt trip!).

Fluffy like cream cakes!

Oh no, what I was after was instant gratification, a background of images and noise, sugar-coated marshmallowy easy-to-follow fly-on-the-wall no-braincells-needed undemanding nonsensical entertainment that was likely to leave me hungry for more substantial TV content after all that sugar rush, but whose lack of substance would somewhat sedate me and help me switch off from my day and for a while take my mind off those phonecalls, meetings, targets, lateral thoughts, time-poor event planning, and any form of stress that they generate. (to be continued)

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