Plasma Reality

Don’t watch much TV these days.
Too much reality on the tube.
I can get that right outside my front door.
I miss the fantasy of the medium.
I want the glamour of entertainment,
Not the everydayness of families next door--
Overweight, dissatisfied; constantly repairing this house or that car.
Let me escape into fantasy worlds
That TV creates.
I want anything but reality.

The irony is that I am now the proud owner of a 40-inch plasma TV.
High density this and thousand pixels that.
The picture resolution is great but do I really want to see
Reality TV in HD?
All the bumps and warts and normality
Of reality?
Well ok the nature shows are beautiful in high-resolution living color,
But I still don’t want to watch lions eat their kill close-up.

I miss my TV sofa time.
The hours spent in Dallas and Knot’s Landing,
Melrose Place, and Beverly Hills.
Fly me to Green Acres or to Fantasy Island,
Petticoat Junction or Gilligan’s Island,
Bewitch me and let me throw my hat into the air
Together with Mary Tyler Moore or That Girl.
Did I mention that I Love Lucy?
I won’t even count the hours spent poring over the X-files.

I’ve tried; I really have, to give reality a chance.
But it’s not doing anything for me.
I’ve no explanations and no regrets.
Of late I’ve gotten to know Nobody who lived in a graveyard
And Coraline who found another set of parents in a parallel world.
I’ve rediscovered Ray Bradbury,
Who envisioned wall TVs and the reality shows that came with them,
Well over fifty years ago,
And the Martians who did not welcome us to their world.

I’m having fun again.


copyright PM De Angelis
August 2009