You know, there’s a certain soft hum you get in your brain, that gentle, terpsichorean feeling in the pit of your belly as you wait in silent anticipation, counting down the seconds until your favorite TV show came on. Call it nostalgia, call it madness – but that’s the thrill of a good, old fashioned scheduled broadcast lost in a sea of digital convenience.
In these parts of Schenectady, NY, where shopping malls and farmland converge, where people know your name, folks remember a time when television used to constitute a romantic tryst with time, set within the four walls of your living room. Now, however, a screen is just a small square of bright light that sits inside your pocket, always within reach, ready to entertain you whenever you command. It’s convenient, yes, but does it have that same old magic?
Growing up in upstate New York, you could almost set your watch by the evening’s broadcast lineup. The quick mock seriousness of MAS*H at 6 was our call to dinner, the family trooping in, battered from the day’s work or school, settling down around the table while Hawkeye and Trapper sparred in the background. The Johnny Carson monologue marked bedtime for us children, the soft laughter from the living room punctuating our dreams. By the time Letterman started his show at 12:30, only dad was left, the flickering blue light in the living room a distant lighthouse while the rest of the house was lost to slumber.
That was then, and this is now. Television, much like everything else, has followed the tech trail and made its home on streaming platforms, completely transforming the viewer experience. Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney+ – you name it. They have completely eradicated the element of time, feeding into the ‘on-demand’ psyche. Now, one can binge-watch entire seasons at a stretch, blurring the lines of day and night. Convenient, yes, but isn’t something missing?
Think about it – in my younger days, we waited, starved for the new episode of Seinfeld to air. We gathered around the water cooler the next day, sharing the best punch lines, dissecting Kramer’s latest antics, pretending we were as witty as Jerry or George. Offices and schoolyards would buzz with these conversations, bringing us all a little closer.
Today? You watch a full season in one go and then spend days avoiding social media, because God forbid someone spoils the next show you have lined up in your watchlist. The water cooler conversations? Replaced by Twitter trends and reposts, a poor substitute for real human interaction. The delightful agony of waiting, the echo of laughter, days spent guessing – all replaced by a next episode that starts in 5…4…3…2..1.
All those kids out there, growing up with smart screens and smarter content, I wonder if they fully enjoy Bob’s Burgers or Rick and Morty the same way we reveled in Cheers and Star Trek. Do they feel the same excitement, or have they been robbed of the very joy that comes with the wait, and ultimately, the reward?
In this age of binge-watching, TV shows are consumed more like fast food than a home-cooked meal. We rush through it, never savoring the taste, forgetting it the moment we’re done. We’ve traded in anticipation for instant gratification. Time, it seems, stands still in this new environment, where everything is available at the push of a button, but for some of us, there’s a part of us that yearns for the long-lost thrill of the wait.
Life has changed, and no amount of grumbling will bring back the good old days. Younger generations would probably scoff at my musings and extol the virtues of “easy access” and “unlimited availability.” I may be a grumpy man ranting about the shifts in life that age has foisted upon me, but for a guy like me, who’s got more years of waiting for TV shows under his belt than most folks have been alive, I can’t help but miss it.
Few appreciate the subtle virtue of patience now. We live in a time where waiting is considered a nuisance, be it for a TV show or a cup of coffee. But isn’t that rush, that pulse-pounding anticipation, and eventual payoff part of the thrill? Sadly, it seems times have changed, and so has television.
And so, my friends, the next time you find yourself reaching for that remote, remember: they don’t make them like they used to. They certainly don’t.
