14 August 2012

Television, and peace

As the Olympics approached, I remembered previous years of absolutely loving watching the gymnastics. So when a friend offered to lend us her spare TV, I jumped at the chance.

And hasn't it been great? Gabrielle Douglas was my favourite. The floor.... the beam.... the super-strong men on the rings and bar.... the oh-so bendy and elegant rhythmic gymnasts, the divers.... New Zealand winning the rowing. Wow. We feasted on it.

But what a change for our family to have a TV dominating the lounge. To have children sitting and staring at something, so 'zoned out'. (Somewhat tidier, to be sure, with less creating going on.) To have parents saying 'Be quiet!' in order to hear every detail of what the winning athlete says. To have such a large call on our time and family life. To have later nights, and less reading.

Even last night, when I saw part of a documentary on Paul Simon going to South Africa to record Gracelands, I never wanted to keep the TV. But it was fantastic to see those oh-so-coordinated black Africans grooving away in the studio as Boy in the bubble was recorded. Such rhythm and joy - I cannot get enough of African music, song and dance!

We're returning the TV this weekend. This evening it's off, and there is melody in our lounge:

Please note: this was minutes before he put it down and switched on Mad Max.  That TV has to go! He agrees.

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