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Tuesday, November 1, 2016

A Bridge Too Far

Among the things I cherish about my long marriage is how small a role TV has ever played in it. We've never owned more than one. It's never been close enough to watch from an eating area, even while we were raising our daughter. Our conversations rarely revolve around something one of us has watched. My newest favorite part? We agreed moving into our current home six years ago to put the TV in the basement, completely removed from our living space. With or without guests in the house, when walking in our front door, you might hear a conversation, some music, or quiet. But you will not hear a TV. I like that.  

Moving into the third act, maybe our TV habits will change. There are certainly worse things that could happen. My wife loves most things British and in recent years she has started to enjoy watching those good looking soccer players, especially the Italians. I'm a sucker for documentaries - especially by Ken Burns - and an indiscriminate film geek; for me, TCM is as essential as peanut butter. But even if our habits do change, don't ask me where the TV room is in my home. That's a bridge too far.

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