On the Outside Looking In

I'm on the outside looking in.

I don't know if it's because we have no will -power over television in this family or because we are just so blasted tight fisted with our cash or a combination of the two, but for at least a year now we haven't watched more than a handful of hours worth of t.v. No cable. No Dish. Only 3/4 of a rabbit ear left on the table-topper antenna unit, though we do have tin foil wrapped around the stubs and fanned out into foil elephant ears, with the whole thing placed near the slider door to the backyard- just in case that might gain us an ounce of reception.

What we do have is a box. An HDtv box- I think.

In a perfect world, if this box is turned on, while our television is on, we should be able to watch at least four or five channels of news and stories with high def clarity. But we live in a fallen world with broken boxes and a distorted view of what is going on out there. Or in my case, no view.

Our particular HDtv box is pretty special. Most of the time it delivers no picture whatsoever. I'm so glad I only paid $10 for this thing. But every once in a great while, someone in this family will get the urge to twist some tin foil and turn knobs in hopes of watching a little television. And every once in a great while, the box will do a little dance and kick out a clear picture of something. For example: on the evening of the season premiere of LOST, I merely flipped on the tube and bingo, there it was, clear as day- that amazingly complicated show with more twists and turns than our tin foil rabbit ears. I did watch it and I was LOST. So I guess I got it.

But. Of course when we want to watch something worthwhile, like, say, the Olympics! The box feigns death.

So. I'm livin' a slice of what it feels like to be in the world, but not of it. What on earth am I doing if I'm not watching the Olympics, you ask? Intermittent with sulking and trying to be content, I am sitting by a roaring fire every night reading So Long, Insecurity- You've Been a Bad Friend to Us by Beth Moore, Dug Down Deep by Joshua Harris and Her Mother's Hope (preview copy) by Francine Rivers. I'm finding out that: it's a little hard to bid ado to Insecurity; what I believe about the One who loves me so much he would die for me really matters; and it really is true, I have a pretty wonderful life even without television.

I think I'm gonna make it.