BrokenJPG

A Copywriter’s Blog
Either Torture, or a Social Experiment

Last Saturday, the wife and I had a garage sale in preparation for our New York move. This fact alone doesn’t mean much except that we sold our TVs.

I like to think of myself as an adaptable creature. I’ve got hobbies. I’ve got a gameboy. I’ve got stuff (packing) to do. The trouble is, packing is a pain in the ass. And I’ve found that when you’re done doing pain in the ass things you really just want to sit on the couch (which we haven’t sold yet and is the last place in the house to sit) and watch TV. It should be noted that by “watch TV” I now mean “stare at the six foot high entertainment center that dominates the room so you can’t help but gaze into the empty, dusty, void where your TV used to be“. It’s like I can’t look away.

I’ve begun to develop phantom remote syndrome. I find myself reaching for a channel changer that isn’t there. I mentally prepare for arguments with The Wife about what show we’ll watch during dinner. Then I realize there won’t be any show at all. We’ll have to talk.

She has it worse than me, of course. The lunchroom at work has a TV in it. I can at least get a hit there. She’s home all day packing. On the average day I’d say she used to watch at least 5 hours of TV before this. I have no idea what happens when you go cold turkey from a talking box binge. I think there was a special about it on the Discovery Channel yesterday, but of course I didn’t see it.

I’ll try to keep you all updated as to how we’re faring. If there’s no report tomorrow, I think you can safely assume the worst- that we’ve resorted to acting out half-remembered episodes of I Love Lucy.

May Matt Lauer have mercy on our souls.

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2 Responses to “Either Torture, or a Social Experiment”


  1.   Ari Says:

    Where are you working in NY?

  2.   Ben Levy Says:

    Staying with the big S.