Mister Rogers to MTV

When I was growing up, our family always had one television, and it was always black and white. There were 3 - 5 channels; 4, 5, 7, and sometimes 2 and 10. I liked to get up early on weekend days, before everyone else in the family, just to watch The Three Stooges, Davey and Goliath, or anything that was on. I was mesmerised by Mister Rogers and I always wished that Miss Jean would look into her Romper Room magic mirror and see me. Despite never hearing my name, I knew that television was magic and scary because of something that happened one morning.

I was sitting on the couch watching Jack Lalanne, alone as usual, when he said TO ME, "Put down that candy and get up off that couch." I was terrorized because he could see me through that TV screen, right down to the candy I was holding. I jumped off the couch and used evasive maneuvers to sneak over and turn off that evil TV. My little heart was pounding, but I knew I was safe once he couldn't see me. I didn't give up watching early morning TV, but I did give up watching Jack Lalanne.

We children really didn't watch TV during the day. We were told to "go out and play," as were all the kids in the neighborhood. There were shows that we were never allowed to watch, and those were soap operas and Twilight Zone. I didn't watch either until I was married, and then I understood my mother's rules.

As teenagers, we took serious interest in TV, and I appreciated the excitement of September. As unpleasant as it was to go back to school, at least we had the new TV shows to watch. Laugh In was a favorite in our house, and although I didn't always know why my father would laugh uproariously at some of the skits, I did get some of them, and enjoyed the show. On Monday nights we would have a conflict because The Monkees and Gilligan's Island were on opposite each other. My mother solved that squabble by having us take turns on Mondays. Saturday nights our parents would sometimes go out, and the eldest of the kids would stay up late and watch Hogan's Heroes. The stress of babysitting the younger kids required snacks, so we would have ice cream when we were lucky. There was never any temptation to watch the forbidden shows as, living in a creaky old house, we had enough fodder for nightmares if we were looking for some.

Once spouse and I were married, we got our own TV, a Magnavox console, color, of course. It was big and beautiful, and the roomy, flat top could hold all kinds of stuff. Then we had our first child, and I stayed home with her full time. This is when I started checking out The Soaps, but when I realized that the televised emotional turmoil was affecting me I had to give them up. When our little one was almost two, spouse discovered some new technology, a new toy, a VCR. He had to be the first on his block to get one, and he handed over $800 for the privilege. This was 1979. We began wearing a path to the store to rent their VHS tapes. What a concept, to be able to watch a movie, pause it, then resume watching.

I didn't have a "forbidden" TV show list for our girls, but I never got them started on Sesame Street. Mister Rogers was a favorite, and when I told my mother that my daughter answered Mister Rogers' questions, she told me that I had done the same thing. Once I got a part time job, spouse would watch TV with the girls at night, and their favorites were the Muppets and Hee Haw. Hee Haw, according to our elder daughter, had to be watched from the floor, not the couch. Spouse never learned why, but he went along with it. Once MTV was born, some may have felt that video killed the radio star, but I loved my MTV. The girls weren't into it much, but they did like to watch some of the videos. "Thriller" was a favorite of only one of the girls; our younger daughter was always afraid of it. It was a creep fest, although very well done.

We did try to prevent nightmares, for the girls and for us, and when "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" was on, I would tell the girls to close their eyes for the 'Large Marge' segment. To this day, our older daughter has not seen Marge's face, but not because she is afraid, only because of lack of opportunity. When we do watch TV together, it is shows like CSI and Bones. Our younger daughter prefers less graphic TV, but likes action/adventures and romantic comedy. With over 900 channels on the cable box, there are plenty of choices for all of us. But it's good to have the VCR and On Demand ready at a moment's notice. Just In Case there's nothing on TV. We have all come a long way since Mister Rogers.

Stop, Drop, and Roll This Shopping Cart Out of Here

When I was a young child, grocery shopping was a great time, An Occasion. When it was my turn to be the one to accompany my mother to the "food store", it was cause for celebration and it required begging and pleading until my mother caved. Looking back, I know that she must have treasured the trips to the food store - if she were lucky enough to get away with none of us in tow. At the time, all I knew was I didn't like my mother's mysterious weekend disappearances (for naps). I would wander around the house looking for her, and when I was unable to find her, I'd ask my father, "Where's Mommy?". His answer was always the same, "She ran off with the pirates." Enough reason to beg, borrow, or steal all the 1:1 time with her that I could.

Flash forward to our newlywed days when spouse and I would go food shopping after work to either Market Basket or Purity Supreme. Food shopping was even more fun now, since we both got to pick out anything we wanted - as long as it fit into the budget. It was a good time. These joint shopping expeditions continued until we had our first child, after which the baby and I did the shopping while spouse was at work. The GM Loveseat, the latest, safest technology at the time, fit into the carriage, and the food fit in around the baby seat. Food shopping was more challenging now, but new mothers adapt. Once our second child was born, food shopping became a solo operation. With both girls in the shopping cart there was little room for the food. And after taking care of the girls all day, then food shopping, I was ready for an easy supper, and that's when I learned to love drive-thru windows. Burger King was close and convenient, and a few hamburgers didn't take too much bite into the food budget. One afternoon at the drive-thru, I ordered the burgers with no drinks, having just stocked up on plenty of everything. At the pick-up window, the nice young girl advised me not to "drink too much milk". Puzzled, I looked over at the other side of the car, loaded with brown bags, and saw the four gallons of milk sitting proudly on the passenger seat. Every body's a comedienne.

Along came the '90s, and I decided that I had had enough shopping, cooking, and cleanup for the evening meal. The girls were growing, and it was time for me to have my "me" decade. We started dining out frequently. Occasionally the girls would accompany us. Occasionally we would bring them back supper. Occasionally they would prepare their own meals. The decrease of the food shopping bill was in direct proportion to the increase in the dining out bill. We are not gourmands, and we ate cheap. The emphasis was on quantity, not quality.

This was when I started to hate food shopping. Why food shop when we hardly eat at home? Well, how else do we get the necessities like detergent, paper products, and cat food? I begrudged the time cruising the aisles, waiting in lines, bagging my own stuff. I tried Stop & Shop's Peapod service, but I never got into the routine of shopping on-line and I didn't like those extra charges on top of the bill. $100 for groceries is too much when there is barely any food involved.

So I decided to rope spouse in to help me food shop because misery does love company. He drove the shopping cart, I selected the items. Except for the ice cream, chips, pretzels, cereal, and Ring Dings. Those are his domain. We would have our supper (out, of course), then head for Shaw's, preferred over Stop & Shop for several reasons. This all worked out well for several years, until this past Sunday. Spouse had the shopping cart, as usual, and I was the search team. I was searching for barley, something I buy once every five years, and I was having trouble finding it, but I did find it. I went back to where I left spouse, and there he was - gone. I walked half the length of the store, and he was nowhere.

I resumed shopping for a few minutes, gathering pudding boxes, soup cans, and by the time my arms were full, spouse had still not reappeared. I went to get a hand basket and dropped everything into it, then went on a serious search for spouse. Once I reached the end of the store, he came around the last aisle, having spent the past ten minutes selecting two cartons of ice cream and one gallon of milk. Eager to share my exasperation, I gave him The Look, then emptied my hand basket into the cart and went to get some bread. Apparently The Look had no affect, because spouse announced that he was going to get the cereal, which is one aisle over from the barley aisle, and the aisle past which he had sped by in his desperate quest for ice cream, which is in the absolute last aisle of the store. This was when I lost my food shopping cool and shouted at him to wait two minutes for me while I picked out some bread. I became one of those people that shouts in public. Decibel-wise it wasn't a true shout, but for me it was a shout. Spouse waited two minutes while I picked out some bread, then we went to the cereal aisle, and all the other aisles that had been missed.

It is time to start shopping after work again. By myself. Maybe this was spouse's plan all along.