Duller than grass growing: golf on TV

By COLLEEN BAYUS Columnist

I’m a firm believer that there are two types of people in this world: those who grew up with… I’m a firm believer that there are two types of people in this world: those who grew up with cable television, and those who didn’t.

You can actually tell which people were deprived of the juvenile pleasures provided by morning cartoons on Nickelodeon. Generally, these unfortunate souls are slightly on the clueless side when groups of friends sit around reminiscing about carefree days of childhood bliss — a time when the only beer consumed was of the root variety.

Cable TV is undeniably an integral part of our existence. My stack of Comcast bills can attest to this fact. Even though I grit my teeth while writing out a check each month to pay for a frivolous service, which, essentially, distracts me from accomplishing anything remotely academic, I shudder to think how life would be without my constant cable TV companion.

Tuesdays without “The Real World”? Gasp!

Although I confess to being a cable TV junkie, even I have my limits. Because we’re all broke as a joke, my roommates and I subscribe to basic cable. The number of channels that this low man on the totem pole of television access provides for us amazes me. Truth be told, I probably only actually watch four or five of them. However, I could watch entire channels on something as arbitrary as the art of drilling holes into homemade birdhouses, if I so desired.

What alarms me is that there are chumps out there who voluntarily partake in such brain-numbing viewing, void of any entertainment or intellectual value whatsoever. The most glaring example are those who watch The Weather Channel — not merely for the daily forecast, to see how many more inches of rain will be thrust through the leaky ceilings of beat-ass South Oakland houses — but as a continuous, all-day, weather-reporting extravaganza.

Correct me if I’m wrong: The Weather Channel has none of the characters, plots or good ol’ catfights that reality programming does. How many times is it necessary to hear the daily temperature during mid-February? It’s pretty friggin’ cold, I assure you — and it ain’t changing any time soon.

Who cares about the highs and lows in Nebraska? Nothing good ever came out of Nebraska — football fans in particular. There is no need to be glued to the television all day simply for the sake of weather. If a drastic change from the norm occurs, I’m pretty sure looking out the window will suffice as a decent means to relay information. Well lookie here, it’s raining again — hot damn.

A worse channel came to my attention recently. While on vacation with a friend and her family this summer I was introduced to The Golf Channel — golf, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. There is nothing more tedious to watch on television than middle-aged, rich men, decked out in polo shirts, studying the curve of each and every green in effort to sink the ideal putt — unless there is a “watching grass grow” station out there that I do not know of.

My friend’s father, an avid golfer who is very easily amused, was stuck to this god-forsaken channel like white on rice. I consider myself a flexible person — pretty much a go-with-the-flow type of gal — but by the end of the week I was contemplating the most practical method to go about smashing the boob tube to smithereens.

Surprisingly, both the television and I made it back from vacation in one piece. I haven’t been able to bring myself to play a single hole of chip and putt since. After a week of non-stop action on the televised links, it is against my principles, and I just may be scarred for life.

Clearly, cable TV can provide a plethora of viewing amusement, and may very well be necessary to ensuring a complete and fulfilled childhood. However, the cable providers of the world are misleading all of us sheep who mindlessly view the programming by jamming our television sets with worthless malarkey.

Watch your cable TV, but use with discretion. Be sure to tune into Nickelodeon here and there, for your inner child’s sake — but feel free to replace your root beer with the real McCoy.

Colleen Bayus thinks The Weather Channel is a sham, and so should you. E-mail her at [email protected].