I am beginning to hate television.
Cable programming offers the watcher a huge assortment of tantalizing shows in every genre, promising to hook you in and excite you. Discovery Channel gives you a week-long series of documentaries on sharks, and the History Channel offers you savory shows on the founding of the nation on down to “Ancient Aliens.” There really is something for everyone; however, I don’t happen to be the “someone” who wants their “everything.”
I am not interested in watching who is supposed to be America’s next greatest talent spin plates on his or her head while an “American Idol” sings on another channel while the stars dance their feet off. I don’t care if “The Bachelor” or “The Bachelorette” ever find true love. Surviving and amazing races aren’t my things either.
Toddlers have no business wearing tiaras unless they are playing dress up in the comfort of there own homes, and as for saying yes to a dress, looks to me like all those women choose the same style dress. And poor Honey Boo Boo, if you don’t know what I am talking about don’t try to find out! She and her family are just a train wreck looking for a place to happen, and that’s all I have to say about that.
Giada, Ina, Paula and Bobby all serve up wonderful foods on their shows, but I bet they would be “Chopped” by their peers and wouldn’t even make it to being the “Next Best Chef.”
I have seen every home remodeled, flipped or sold to some property virgin while the Kardashian’s try to wheel and deal there way into America’s heart.
Even aging rocks stars have found new ways to fund their IRAs; I mean, who ever thought that Ozzy Osbourne or Gene Simmons of Kiss would make it back into regular programming while collecting Social Security.
I have been overdosed on “CSI” shows, from Miami to NY to LA, but I must admit, I have a slight fondness for “NCIS.” However, 24 straight hours of programming once a week means we all have seen their 100 plus episodes more than once.
Vampires and the walking dead should combine forces with the lawyer and doctor shows. Maybe everyone could get cured and those who don’t could sue their makers.
I know I am showing my age but I miss “Barney Miller,” “The Jeffersons and “My Three Sons.” And why can I only watch “The Carol Burnette Show” on DVD? I would love to name that tune while sitting around the TV with my kids instead of having to play a similar game on the computer, or listen to others play it on their iPhones while sitting in the doctor’s office waiting to be seen.
I know it is just a sign of the times, but while watching television with my family, I wish that I didn’t have to sit with remote in hand, waiting for the profanity or nudity to come on so I can quickly change the channel. Mind you, that comes on way before 10 p.m. at night, and half the time it is in the commercials.
What message does that send to our children or society that it is OK to curse and show half your skin on TV? Although, I am kidding myself, as you can go to the grocery store and see that same behavior.
So, I haven’t an answer for any of this, I wish I could change it all.  Instead I am shutting the boob tube off and cracking open my book. Happy reading!
A Yankee with a Southern soul, Gillian Pollock is a wife, mother of two ever-challenging children and director of Christian Formation at Saint Peter’s Episcopal Church in Washington.