Tuesday October 26, 2004
Increasingly, the TV is something that sits burbling in the corner, mostly with the sound muted, the modern equivalent of a tropical fishtank—decorative but of limited interest. Oh, perhaps twice a day I’ll sit down to view the news, and if there’s a good film or documentary or original drama, I’ll watch it properly. That doesn’t happen too often, though, so except for when I’m feeling poorly and in need of comfort food for the brain, TV is of little interest to me.
However. Tuesday evenings are now filled with a three-hour chunk of solid sit-down-and-shut-up programming that has me more or less glued to my chair. First, there’s an hour of Stargate SG-1, now running a new-to-Britain series. I like this. I enjoy hard science fiction and this is as close as TV gets to it. And I like and identify with the Jack O’Neill character. Following on that is the new-to-Britain Stargate spin-off—Stargate Atlantis. I’m not so sure about this one. I like the science, and the effects, but the plot line is a little shallow, at least in my view. And now they’ve introduced cute little kids into the character list I’m fearful that the whole thing will degenerate into slush. For the moment, though, I’m giving it a fair chance and getting well into it. And then, this evening, on a different channel, they showed the first of a new series of Teachers. This is a Britain-only comedy drama I suspect. The language is rather too strong for comfortable viewing elsewhere. But the writing and the direction are excellent, absolutely first-rate, and I cannot resist it.
So, today, a stop-at-home day, was topped off by a jolly good evening of prime quality entertainment. Otherwise, not a lot.
Oh, wait a minute… Yes, the sun shone and it was beautifully mild outside so we repaired to the garden where Graham was able to put the grass to rights at long last and I was able to enjoy fixing the pond up—picking out fallen leaves and dying blanket weed, and cleaning out the filters. That was good.
And then, after a satisfying, long day, I took myself off to bed, slept the sleep of the blessed innocent for fifteen minutes, and woke up. Full awake. Bouncing awake. The kind of awake you get after a proper night’s sleep. Except of course that it was the middle of the night. No reason. Nothing in particular on my mind, and no special physical discomfort to drive sleep away.
I did the disciplined adult thing, stretched myself out, adopted my most comfortable position, and composed my mind for repose. After a while the inside of my eyelids became boring things to watch so I opened my eyes and lay watching the clock ticking away the seconds, the minutes… And then I gave up. I slipped out of bed, donned slippers and gown, and tiptoed along to the kitchen where I sat at the table for a couple of hours sipping hot peppermint tea and watching TV.
And that’s why we still have TV, I suppose. For the one evening a week when there’s good, solid viewing, and for the one night a week when I can’t sleep, won’t sleep, and am in need of comfort food for the brain.
So, anyway, today ran into tomorrow, and I am back in the familiar land of ‘what day is it?’ The snag in that is of course the word ‘familiar’. I’m used to the phenomenon and, though I don’t worry about it, I really wish I was not.