Stop Yelling At Me!

Greetings, this is a message from your television set. I’m writing to protest the unwarranted abuse that I have endured while serving you these past few years.

I agree, Ryan Newman should have done better in that race at Kansas Speedway, Room Raiders insults your intelligence, and the acting on Fox’s “The War At Home” is an abomination. I do not dispute any of your points, but I take serious issue with the actions you have taken to express them.

For example, the burrito you launched at me while watching Meet The Fockers last night. That wasn’t fair at all. It isn’t my fault that you rented that awful film. If anything, you should have taken out your dissatisfaction on the DVD player. He is more to blame than I am.

Perhaps you ought to bellow at that digital cable receiver of yours. It is he the one who gathers all this awful programming. Don’t take it out on the messenger! In fact, why yell at all? It does you no good at all.

Sir, I realize that you are yelling at the images, but having spent my entire lifetime as your television, I have begun to lose my patience. I was created as a positive diversion, as a ready means to entertain, inform, and even educate. When your face twists into a purplish knot of fury, I feel something no factory-installed feature of mine can overcome: I feel that I have failed you.

Might I make a suggestion? On those days when there is “nothing on,” why don’t you just turn me off and do something constructive with your time? You don’t have to watch all of those programs that irk you. You see, unlike me you have the freedom to get up and walk away.

I’m willing to give our relationship a second chance, only if you promise that when you get angry you will stop, take a deep breath, get up and step away from me for a few hours and do something constructive. Go for a walk, work out, read a good book—may I recommend the works of Evan S. Connell? Not that I’ve read any of them, but I saw him on C-SPAN’s Book TV and he seemed very intelligent. Or calm your nerves with a nice up of hot tea. Just don’t fling it at me in anger, okay?