TV sucks
There I was, enjoying a hot bowl of teo-chew porridge with a friend at some eatery at Jalan Kayu in the middle of nowhere in Singapore during my layover on the way home from Jakarta this past Sunday when my attention was diverted to the TV hanging from the ceiling. It was set to a channel that was showing the second Charlie’s Angels movie.
As we continued our conversation I realized my visual attention was now diverted not just between my friend and my food but also to the TV. It was then that I noticed a family sitting one table over, all four (or maybe five) enjoying a bowl of porridge, and all but one of them were staring at the TV.
It was one of the saddest sights I had ever seen. Here was a family dining out and yet there was absolute silence from their table save for slurping noises punctuated by the sound of spoons scraping against bowls every now and then. There was no conversation, no exchange of stories, experiences, jokes (even bad ones). Nothing.
The image is now burned in my head, of a TV hanging from the ceiling, sucking out the life and soul of that one family.
And sometimes I wonder if perhaps I don’t own a TV partly because of this hatred I have of it.
Or is it fear?
