To TV, or not to TV, that was the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to buy a TV.
Mom wanted a TV more than Dad wanted one. Dad thought television was a fad that would never catch on. Besides, he had a radio. Who could ask for anything more?
Marriage is the art of compromise. My parents bought a used TV.
We once had two TVs at the same time in the living room. It didn’t devolve into a battle where both were turned on, and attention was drawn to whichever set reached the highest volume level. One TV sat atop the other TV. They had to work together because one had video capability only and the other had lost its video but kept the audio portion. They needed to be synchronized. The channel selectors on the TVs, which changed the channels from one to another, were made of a rare form of plastic guaranteed to break immediately upon use. This necessitated the use of a needle-nose pliers to change the channels. We didn’t have a remote needle-nose pliers, so some effort was required by a human. Click, click, click, the channels went by, one snowy scene after another, until something looked good. Then the audio TV channels were clicked through until sound was heard. There were no channel numbers available for reference. Once the sounds were located, we sat back and waited to see if they matched the picture. When that happened, life was good.
The neighbors had a color TV. It didn’t offer all the colors. It was a plastic film that was put over a black-and-white screen. It was blue towards the top and green at the bottom. If the picture was all sky and grass, it was amazingly good.
The TV sets had rabbit ears, an indoor TV antenna consisting of two telescoping swivel-based aerials. With the help of those rabbit ears, we received a grand total of three stations. Channel 3 was KGLO from Mason City, Channel 6 was KAUS out of Austin, and Channel 10 was KROC in Rochester. There was no charge for watching any of them. All we needed was a little electricity and a trusty pair of needle-nose pliers.
The limited number of channels reminds me of a Jeff Foxworthy joke, “We used to have four channels. And if the President was on, your night was shot. ‘The President’s on! He’s on every channel! We’re gonna miss Flipper!'”
Nielsen research found that in 2014, the average U.S. home with a TV received 189 channels.
I don’t remember the three channels like it was yesterday. I remember them like it was the day before yesterday. TV news wasn’t questioned or rejected. Social media took place at the cafe.
Sports fans didn’t get much screen time. There was pro bowling, pro wrestling and the “Falstaff Beer Game of the Week” an MLB treat featuring former pitcher Dizzy Dean and ex-shortstop Pee Wee Reese. Ol’ Diz was famous for his poor grammar, singing “The Wabash Cannonball,” and saying things like, “The Good Lord was good to me. He gave me a strong body, a good right arm, and a weak mind.”
I don’t remember any NFL games other than an occasional Green Bay Packers frolic. The Minnesota boys basketball state tournament wasn’t fully televised; so, most fans relied on WCCO Radio.
Mom acquired TV trays, prepared TV dinners and subscribed to the “TV Guide.” The family appointment calendar had to work with the TV Guide.
The TV stations signed off for the night, usually around midnight. Local news might have aired before we were thanked for watching. After that, the station played the “Star-Spangled Banner,” recited the poem “High Flight,” showed a montage of videos, and displayed a test pattern before the picture turned to static until the station signed back on around 6 a.m.
My father rarely remained awake that late, but when he did, he concluded his viewing day by saying that the static was the best thing that was on each day.
It’s difficult to elude TV’s long reach.
Is TV a good thing or a bad thing?
The jury is still out.
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