The Times Magazine 5e’ve just had a
“holiday”. For
those who don’t
remember what
they’re like – it’s
been a difficult
two years,
“vacation-wise”- FYI: THEY’RE
AMAZING. We were in a place that wasn’t
our house, on the side of a lake, with access to
our own canoe. Granted, we only stayed one
night – because, when I booked the holiday,
back in Omnicron-y November, I wanted to
“be on the safe side”. Also granted that, because
we have teenagers, by the time they finally
woke and got into the car, we’d already missed
three hours of our allotted 24 – which perhaps
explains why I was still in the hot tub, naked,
drinking a cup of tea when the cleaner turned
up at 11am the next morning. Sorry, Jen. I hope
the tip was big enough to cover the therapy.
Anyway, it was all lovely. There were some
very jolly ducks and lots of interesting board
games. Indeed, it was the teetering pile of
board games – maybe 30 of them, suspiciously
well used – that first alerted me to the sole
problem with the cabin: it didn’t have a telly.
It was difficult to break the news to the
family – who were at the time cheerfully
looking in, eg, cupboards, to find the telly.
“Guys, I’m sorry – it’s been so long since
I booked a holiday I wasn’t on my A-game
when I looked at the website. This place is the
sort of ‘classy’ joint that ‘allows you to have a
media detox’, ie, NO TELLY.”
The response from them was the same one
I got from all my friends, on WhatsApp, when
I told them later: “The animals!” “Why would
they do that?” “Mate – brutal. My thoughts are
with you at this difficult time.”
Let’s face it – there aren’t that many
problems with being middle class, but one of
them is definitely going to places, and hanging
out with people, who “don’t believe” in TV.
The kind of people who “like to appreciate
nature”; who “love to lose themselves in a
good book” or “prefer conversation instead”.
First, to address these points as briskly as
possible. “Nature” – yeah yeah, but also: it’s
dark for a long time each day, dude. You can’t
appreciate “some grass” or “frogs” at 11pm.
If you want nature at 11pm, you’ll need
Attenborough, in HD, on your telly. “Books”?
Don’t make out it’s somehow a power-flex
to fail in making time for TV! I read at least
W
CAITLIN MORAN
I’m a TV addict – it makes me smarter
Telly snobs have no idea what they’re missing
ROBERT WILSON
three books a week – and watch multiple
episodes of Below Deck: Mediterranean. You
can do both! JUST TRY HARDER!
It’s the third that’s the weakest point,
however: “I prefer conversation instead.”
This is the comment that reveals the crucial
fact the No TV People are unwilling to admit:
they don’t know how to watch TV. They don’t
have the skills. There is a definite, edifying art
to watching any old bollocks – something about
giant trucks, or hoarders, or a terrible action
movie from 1985 – then jumping into a group
critique of it, with loved ones. When you walk
into a room saying, “What you watching?” and
everyone replies, “Just some random arse,”
that is an unerring sign that you’re about to
spend the next few hours engaging in the joy
displayed by the majority of the TV Having
public, along with Beavis and Butthead, the
Royle family and the Gogglebox guys: droll
cultural and media analysis. If you watch a lot
of TV, you know the tricks and tropes; you can
shout, “Here comes the exposition!” or, “Pre-ad
break twist arriving – absolutely on time.”
But it’s not simply the opportunity for
everyone to be a wry, sofa-bound Clive James
that watching TV offers – for its greatest
attribute is that, contrary to myth, there is
no better aid to genuinely wide-ranging,
emotionally frank conversation than TV.
When This Is England writer Jack Thorne
referred to TV as “the empathy box” on Desert
Island Discs, he acknowledged an underrated
truth – that television brings thousands of
subjects and insights into a house that might
be awkward, difficult or outright impossible
for someone going in cold, on their own.
How many young people had their first
conversation about their sexuality as the
credits rolled on It’s a Sin, Gentleman Jack
or Queer Eye; or mental health after the Van
Gogh episode of Doctor Who? Television is
the magic window through which the rest
of the world can climb into your house – so
suddenly it’s you and Walter White who are
talking about cancer; you and Michaela Coel
who are talking about sexual abuse. There’s
a reason why chatty human beings invented
the television: to start more conversations,
not fewer. A house with a TV in it is a
house party, with a billion potential guests- geniuses, hoarders, big-truck owners, pandas,
Michael Palin, Grayson Perry and Bagpuss.
And they don’t even need to argue over who
gets the top bunk. They’re all in the magic box
in the corner: sweet, genial old TV. n
There is a definite art
to watching any old
bollocks. We can all
be a wry, sofa-bound
Clive James