I sat on the bed of the hotel room that I had for free this week (which has a longer explanation that I’m not at liberty to tell) anticipating the emotional release that comes from putting on the fluffy white robe (something I’ve never done outside of a hotel room and gives me the enjoyable version of imposter syndrome) in preparation to watch the last 3 episodes of Survivor 33: Game Changers.
I suddenly remembered that Hotels have not allowed for the streaming of Paramount+ in the year of our Lord* 2023.
*in Kylie’s name we pray. Padam.
So I turned to TBS, or maybe TNT, to watch four hours of Friends, followed by four hours of The West Wing, followed by four hours of Charmed, then slept through four hours of infomercials, and then come to in the middle another four hours of Friends. And as I became familiar with a young man named Sheldon, I remembered a certain complaint that I made a few months back: I miss passive television watching.
Turning on the TV and the journey is dictated to you. For better or for worse, you get what you get and you didn’t get upset.
I miss getting home from middle school to watch after-school programming, like Clueless the Television show (starring the entire movie cast except Paul Rudd and Alicia Silverstone), that would turn into That 70s Show, then I would slump into a comforting depression watching The Simpsons, until it was time to turn to TLC and watch Trading Spaces. No one can brighten a day like Paige Davis.
But now, after a long day of sending scrupulously crafted emails to people who I know will never reply to, let alone read them, I sit staring at your apple tv remote thinking “I’m the barely legal age of my mid-thirties! How am I expected to make yet another life decision for myself today?”
As I pondered this recurring crisis in my life, Carrie Bradshaw spoke from my hotel television: “But is it possible that we've gotten so spoiled by choices that we've become unable to make one?”
So true girl.
The new decision paralysis involved in television consumption has one big problem. The redirection to the en-vogue and dastardly form of passive consumption. The Scroll. Tiktok, IG, stories, tweets. How did something so comforting, so pure, so American, like passive consumption, become so evil? The scary descent into unregulated lies (filters), faulty journalism (front-facing camera rants), and abs (no one is actually this skinny).
I’ll look up from the icy glow of my phone with a dull hate for everything and a realization that I still have to make my own dinner. Again.
This is in exact contradiction to what passive consumption should be! The act of compartmentalizing with fun colors and mid jokes! If I’m going to recharge by turning my mind off and being a drain on society for a couple of hours, no one should be allowed to make me feel bad about my life choices! Especially someone without any skills or a 401k while selling me the green juice that “sponsors” their shirtless dancing (more abs) in their parents’ driveway.
Other options include, and I still practice, Youtube Rabbitholes. To this day, it has never made me feel bad about myself. I do them most often on the elliptical trying to get abs. It is a known precursor to the modern evil of the scroll, but, during its 2008 heyday, it still had the purity of just wanting you to laugh at punny muffins or women falling off coffee tables. If you start with your old-school favorite, the rabbit hole to existential euphoria will find you once again.
I did this other passive consumption practice in the hotel room, too. I pour myself a shower coffee or a shower beer or, in this case, shower chard (chardonnay), and put on a Spotify radio station. This is an homage to Pandora radio days. If Pandora still exists, please let me know in the comments so I can help them make payroll.
I’m sure there is a better Gia Tolentino essay that explains how the last capitalist frontier is our self-worth. While I won’t be writing further or paying $90/month for cable, I’ll continue to miss the comfort of House Hunters or ANTM or just the TV Guide Channel inserting themselves into my afternoon, during a time when screens truly cared.
Xoxo,
Sam