HIGH DEFINITION HAZARDS
For the first time since I began my weekly columns, I am doing kind of a two-part mini-series. I know it seems like a coy marketing technique, but you really need last weeks column as a primer for this one. Sure, I could have written about the deviant New York governor, or the woman in Kansas who "became one" with her porcelain throne, but those are easy targets. Sometimes, my own foibles are too intriguing to pass up. Kind of a self-portrait, or in this case, a self-examination.
In last weeks musings I wrote about my travails replacing an old family friend. My television. I detailed how I stumbled into the world of high-definition tv. I had no intentions of changing any of my viewing habits, which are notoriously myopic. The O'Reilly Factor, local news for weather and emotional stability, maybe a quick blast through HBO once in a while, though I haven't been stopping there much lately. Pretty mild stuff, and not a lot of time spent in front of the tube. Let's face it, there's not a lot of time, especially during the week, and late Saturday nights are usually my only opportunity for watching an old movie or anything like that.
A few years ago, when American Chopper came out, I had joked to a friend that it was tough getting old. You know the best times are behind you when you're spending time watching a bunch of cursing goof-balls build motorcycles. It's like watching my real life on tv to help me forget about my real life. Then there's the commercials. I was calling friends late at night..."you should see these vise-grips, quick, channel 220, and if you buy now, you get small, smaller and tiny vise-grips for free..." If it weren't for an intervention staged by family members, God knows where I may have ended up. I got a grip, I got a handle on things, and I've been o.k. ever since. "World's Dirtiest Jobs"? I don't even stop to look. "Myth Busters"? Not for me. That's the "gateway" program that will lead you to heavier programming and eventually and entire life spent watching other people do interesting things. Anyway, as with all self-destructive behaviors, there is always the danger of relapse.
I should have known, that my fancy new television may lead to problems. I never really thought about it. Sure, the high-def pictures are great. Anderson Cooper's blue eyes sparkle, the detail of Larry King's face has made that program a must-see. It's almost like special-effects it is so unsettling and I wouldn't be surprised to see someone get a Grammy for his face. But it was not these programs that would be my downfall, the thrill was fleeting with these programs. No, it was one of the new "HD" channels. To be more precise...it's the NASA channel that has me in it's sway.
I came upon this while journeying through the netherlands of channels, places I had never been before, risking everything from the comfort of my couch. I happened upon it just prior to the launch of shuttle Endeavour last week. I was instantly mesmerized. On launch night, I stayed up until 2:45 a.m. waiting for the launch. Staring for hours, literally, at a live-shot of the shuttle sitting on the pad, the dry-ice steam billowing out as she idled. Alternate shots of the astronauts, strapped in their seats, pointed skyward, and the always inviting mission-control room. My kids would walk by and stare at me, wave their hands in front of my eyes. They even tried that trick from the movie "Awakenings" throwing a ball at me to see if I was bluffing. Time after time the ball would bounce off of my forehead. I was Nasafied. Toast.
I finally gave up as the launch got delayed, but I have been rushing to the tv every night as soon as the kids are in bed to check the progress of the mission. When they don't have live footage, they show the world map with the little Spacelab image moving incrementally across the screen, following it's prescribed orbit path perfectly. I have watched hours of live space-walk footage, amazed as always at the routineness of it all. I have listened to Linnehan, the astronaut from New Hampshire, marvel at the sight of the lights of the mid-west as seen from space. You could hear him getting choked up. I was getting choked up with him. There are still days left to this mission, and I worry about what I will do with my life when they finally fly that baby back home. On the other hand, I should be glad it's not a two-year mission, or I would likely be the next person having a piece of furniture surgically removed from my buttocks. Hey...at least I get out of the bathroom now and then.
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