hand me the remote

when we were little kids.- early 60's- we had ,like everyone else, a black and white television.
and like most everyone else -at one time or another- the dial was broken , so you had to change channels with a pair of pliers.

my dad was the official changer of channels. when he left for work in the morning he would ask us what channel we wanted to watch. "Channel 2!!!!!"

"are you sure?"

"Yes!channel 2!!!"

"okay"

he would set the channel and go to work. and all day the tv would be on channel 2. which was perfect for exactly an hour. 8 am til 9 am. captain kangaroo. the rest of the day, game shows and soap operas.

so for an hour- the captain! bunny rabbit! dancing bear! mr green jeans!
the rest of the day a couple of whiny pre schoolers. (and of course this was back in the day, so pre school meant no school. school started with kindergarten. pre school was still nursery school and we didn't know anyone who went to nursery school)

why this memory of being held hostage by tv?

this morning as i filled up my gas tank- i was assaulted by the tv that was on top of the pump keeping me up to date on the weather and all things britney.

later in the day at the bookstore (the bookstore for the love of god!) they have installed a tv by the magazines

of course every dr's office now has a tv, the barber, the train platform, where else.

hand me the pliers, i think i can hit the screen from here