Getting with IT, Part 2 Flunking TV

Here I am a couple of weeks after my new 55" TV was installed. My son offered to put up the full motion wall mount, saving me installation costs. It took a couple hours on a Friday night, and then a couple more Sunday when he returned with more tools needed. He also set me up with streaming services.

I tried one evening to find a program that would catch my fancy on Prime, Hulu, or Netflix. I had to force myself to do so; interfacing with new technology requires a bit of courage on my part. For some reason I couldn’t get into Hulu; a friend later showed me the secret (press Enter.) It took me a few minutes to figure out the navigation otherwise, but it wasn’t complicated. I watched two or three minutes of a couple dozen shows and settled on a legal drama. The characters were angry, backstabbing and lacking humanity. I stuck with it for most of an hour while waiting for redeeming characteristics. I thought they all needed psychotherapy, stat. I gave up and watched the first couple of episodes of Psych from 2006. I don’t think it advanced my objective to be a more astute consumer of current pop culture.

Even though it hasn’t resulted in more TV time, I’ve taken an iPhone digital holiday, as much as one can when one’s phone is the main avenue of communication with the world. It was provoked by some soreness and swelling in my right hand. I thought maybe my body was trying to tell me something and I’d better pay attention. For that reason and because they are time hogs, I cut out Wordle and Words with Friends. WWF had uncovered a streak of competitiveness I didn’t know I possessed. Sometimes I spent hours, off and on, trying to find the highest scoring word.

And even that might have been okay if I didn’t also then check email, Google News, Facebook, and Instagram each time I heard the Words with Friends’ notification. I was Pavlov’s dog, salivating when I heard the ding that signaled my turn to play a word and then careening off to check for new content.

I unfollowed a person who buys items at Goodwill to resell for a profit. I was addicted to her almost daily YouTube videos of twenty minutes each. She’s charming as she plucks treasures off the well-stocked Goodwills she visits in rotation and comments on why she is taking or leaving items. She has a lot of followers; and it’s not as weird as those who are hooked on videos of pimple popping. IMHO.

I’ve reduced my habit of repeatedly searching the news headlines in my Google feed. I realized I’m really waiting for the headline “Trump Goes to Prison.” When and if that happens, I won’t have to search for it. My weekly screen report says I’m down 65% from what it was three weeks ago.

Now I’m starting a detox from Facebook for a month. My guess is I won’t miss it after an initial “cold turkey” withdrawal, although I will have to expend more energy to connect with friends and family so I can keep up with what’s going on in their lives. And that’s okay. I have time.

Not that Words with Friends, Facebook, Google News and the others are intrinsically bad (well, actually, they probably are with all the data collecting, targeting, twisting, and selling.) They were great during the pandemic when endless hours needed to be filled with those nebulous connections, but the time for that is past. They don’t give me what I want, which is time to write and time to exercise and verbal conversations (either on the phone or in person) instead of texting. And I have my other interests to maintain and grow. Maybe I’ll pursue new interests, new friends, new relationships.

I didn’t throw everything out. I still read Heather Cox Richardson every morning for national news and I read an online source for local news. Various newsletters are delivered to my inbox every day; I choose two or three to read on my laptop. Somehow, it’s easier to say “enough” when I’m on the computer.

I like to listen to the School of Life podcasts on YouTube. They give me hope, even though they reassure me that I am indeed an idiot, because we are all idiots. And that’s said in the most loving way.

You ask, “What does she do to fill in all this time she’s saved?”

Well, I am writing more. And more frequently. I’d like to settle the final knot of the book I’m writing. I am also exercising more. To help me in my endeavor to exercise five days a week, I am calling myself an ah...ahh…

Bwahahaha!

So preposterous!

I’m calling myself an ath…… Oh my god, I can’t even say it!

Hahahaha!

Let me catch my breath.

I’ll try again –

Hahahaha!

Here goes!

I’m calling myself an, an…. ATHLETE!

I’m figuratively howling and rolling on the floor. I am so not an athlete. But I decided I could form my own definition. My version of an athlete is someone (me) who goes to aqua exercise classes twice a week and land-based exercise classes three times a week at the local YMCA. Nothing in my definition says I must look attractive in exercise clothes, and even walking in from the parking lot counts as an athletic endeavor. The regimen consumes about ten hours a week, with a couple of recuperation naps taking more time. I hope my stamina increases so eventually naps will be passe.

But hey, it’s a beginning.

And someday I’ll get around to watching a little TV.