Falling asleep with the visual media
Somewhere in my dim, distant past, I remember being in a conversation of the mind-numbing effects of television.
The questions of the day concerned the penetration of broadcast programs and even the the fate of unwatched offerings, especially re-runs. I remember one comedian suggesting that unwatched programs ended up on the wire coat hangers in your closet. I suspect it was early Paul Hogan (you know him better as Crocodile Dundee from his training films on Australian culture and etiquette)
At the time, I had to agree because a recent closet rearrangement had produced these wire beasties in plague proportions. I had heaps of them – far more than my visits to many dry cleaners might produce. They were obviously multiplying.
And of course we have the case of Extraterrestrials. They came, watched our TV offerings, and as a result bypassed our planet. (you certainly haven't seen many of them lately, have you?)
So to preserve our minds, we had adopted a severe household reduction in TV watching.
In recent weeks however, in her recovery CL has had time on her hands. Old movies have had their place, nothing too strenuous. A good source seemed to be our Sandy City Library – we could get ten at a time. Even nicely sorted alphabetically. A library card is a wondrous thing.
For this last lot Christie decided to lean heavily on the foreign movies section. Imagine a movie about a Moreton Bay fig tree. It might have been an Australian offering she had gotten for me but it was definitely in the “slow, going nowhere” category, similarly another from Canada, and several British movies where I had to translate for her. (she thinks I am the expert on British Commonwealth dialects).
We enjoy our movies, even though dozing off has deprived me of the endings of most of them.
Still heaps better than television, but. My dozings appear more restful.