America has fed me with network, cable, satellite, and digital television for almost all of my life. But at Boston University – where reception is a premium and cable is non-existent, I feel that something was taken from me. I was almost as desperate as a crack whore celebrity in a Betty Ford Clinic. Days passed and I began finding ways to get to the television at least once or twice a week. I could miss everything, but I had to have my Sunday TV with “The Simpsons.”
According to Sunday ritual, I did as I normally would: I met up with my friends to enjoy a healthy sober night of the Golden Globes and “The Simpsons.” Little did I know tragedy would ensue. A blackout took out all of lower Bay State Road from about 7:30 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. Students stepped out of their dark rooms in agony and despair. Who knows how people can actually survive without electricity? Humanity has only done it for more than 10,000 years. Of course, being BU students, a lack of electricity is almost as bad as having your parents forget to send that weekly allowance check. So my friends and I did the logical thing: we came together like a mob would and complained like angry college students do.
We stared blankly at each other, silently hoping for resolution in our time of great conflict. Time was beginning to slip away as the clock drew ever closer to 8:00 p.m. 8:00 came and went. Soon, it was 8:20, and futility set in. I grew impatient with every movement of my cell phone clock: “Damn it, we’re missing ‘The Simpsons.’ This sucks.” I, the television guy, was missing Sunday television.
Like Neanderthals experiencing the power of counting numbers, we sat around and did what all college students do in uncomfortable and boring situations. We made small talk. Eventually evolving to a higher form of entertainment requiring less conversation, we played cards.
Finally, we felt brave enough to take it upon ourselves to venture into the darkness of Boston at 9 p.m. Sunday. At first, there were eight of us in the group, but only four returned to the dark fortress that is Shelton Hall. The other four had abandoned the group in search for electricity and entertainment in other dorms, leaving us to bear the pain of a night without television.
I dreamt of the things I could have been watching: “The Simpsons,” “Malcolm in the Middle,” crappy game shows and sports coverage. Of all the nights to lose power, it had to be Golden Globes night. The Golden Globes just happen to be one of the most unimportant and stupid awards shows out there-and I was missing it. Yes, I even thought of Joan Rivers.
Power came back on around 11:00 p.m. and the students of Shelton exulted and rejoiced. For a moment, I stood in front of the television and wondered if I should push upon the power button. A moment of clarity struck me and I began to gain a sense of knowledge from this ordeal. I began to understand that maybe there is life beyond the entertainment boxes that surround our dorm rooms.
Maybe I didn’t need a computer or an X-Box or the television. The possibilities opened up in my mind. I could enjoy the company of others and even books. I mean, didn’t Bill Cosby once say, “Reading is fun”? And just at that moment, when I came close to resolution, someone screamed, “Hey Ed, HALO time.” That, my fellow readers, is called a moment of insanity. Thank God for the imagination-robbers of Hollywood. Without them, I would have to be creative. Mmm…television.
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