JanuaryFacing down the evils of television in a household of four pre– and teenagers began as a move of desperation and consequence. Rather than being a move of calculated timing, this evening had the appearance of many other similar ones: parents returning home from a school meeting to find the verboten electronic enticement (read:television) warm to the touch. This was a dead giveaway that the rules forbidding its weekday use (read; homework diversion), had been breeched. We’d tried everything: sign-up sheets to monitor viewing patterns; rewards for good grades (less often than we’d hoped); no weekend use; only-when-parents-are-home use; even turning the giant behemoth TV around to face the wall of the family room (read: hernia potential)...all to no avail.
But this evening was different. A casual parental lean on the offending appliance while inquiring about the evening’s accomplishments, revealed the tell-tale truth. A warm palm sealed its doom. Without a word, Dad turned quietly, walked back through the kitchen to the garage and reappeared with a wire snip held dramatically overhead. Still silent, but with a definite flourish (or was it relish?), he unplugged the television from the wall in the den and, to the horror of his children, ceremoniously cut the cord. Gasps of disbelief rose from each gaping mouth. The guillotine could not have been more effective or decisive. With the plug still held in one hand and daughters at his heels begging and pleading, he marched on through the house dismembering each and every set. The smaller ones—as if we needed to make more of a statement—were carried to the basement and draped with an old sheet. He did everything but play Taps!
