Revisiting Little House on the Prairie

My weary body settled into a favorite rocker and picked up an interesting novel and our hand-held remote. Which will it be?   

The day had been chocked full of happenings. Work. Home- maintenance. Gardening.  Speed-walking. My patience and energy were ebbing, but a comforting supper had relieved tense muscles and anxiety. The have-to-do’s eased to just take a breath.

I chose to read.

Quickly, my eyes began to burn and grew teary while reading the first few sentences.  Putting the hardcover book aside, I clicked on the remote. A plethora of interesting media, movies and shows hit me full throttle. ‘Got to choose something - fast! Before it all disappeared!

Clumsy fingers hastily pushed on this or that. Oh no… did the screen just say oops? What went wrong … and how do I recover? This entertainment device was not playing fair.

Why was all this happening? Because we had chosen to change up the face of television.  Conversion to streaming made everything late and difficult to find.  Once more, viewing options required effort and local channels had long interruptions forcing viewers to be patient.

Streaming felt more like screaming.

My thumb snapped off the screen.

Thoughts wandered to times past … when watching this temperamental box, aka television, was exciting. And there were only three channels accessed by antennae on the roof or a rabbit-ear gizmo that manually swayed this way and that. Sometimes the screen resembled an intense blizzard that had dark figures walking about. But sooner or later, reception got better and there was even an upgrade to an eyeful of color.  

Wow. The hey-day of vivid imagery on screen had come.

There was excitement walking to school that anticipated discussion with friends about so many TV shows. Most popular were “Lost in Space,” “I Dream of Genie,” or “Mission Impossible.” My absolute favorite was “The Wild, Wild West.” I would cozy in to watch it on Friday nights with a slice of cheese Danish, dreaming of wearing a cowboy hat and conquering the villains with the good guys, “winning the day.” With incredible smarts, strength, and unusual weaponry, all would be made right with the world.

Or so, we thought.

Reality crept right around the corner. News shows heralded  flags waving that was all was not right. Turmoil and upset surrounded us, even down the street in our own neighborhood. Manners clashed with mayhem; gallantry rode away to far-away places.

Television has become a kind of immense salad; abundant with heartening views to embolden the heart as well the morally edgy and hair-tingling frightening. Which to choose? Or maybe none at all.  Instead, I decided to walk away and ponder the moment my own way…on my backyard porch.

I went outside just in time. Daylight was waning and the calm was yielding to fanciful color and design. The sky dipped and swirled a fluid wash of rose hue melting into lush violet. Drifts of dazzling sapphire blue encircled as the hedge of darkness swallowed the brilliancy of sky. The remaining light danced on tree and leaf, as the forested yard yielded to the dusk of nightfall.

Now settled into a porch chair, I welcomed the mellow evening glow, breathing in the sweetness of a fresh summer’s night.

… “and that’s how I live it.”