Boob tube

Jed and Granny. Prime time television. 1962-71. At the time, hot stuff. Looking back, early television was the epitome of hokey. Black and white pictures presented on a screen no larger than the face of a cabinet radio.

When I was 3 or 4, our neighbors became the first to own a TV. I would run over to Martha's to watch Pinky Lee or Howdy Doody. The screens now had grown.

My parents built a house and we got our first console model TV (it swiveled). I remember Edward R. Murrow and Steve Allen. The Honeymooners. Peter Pan was magical -- he could really fly. I dreamed about flying for days.

A president died before our eyes. We cried as John John saluted. We saw the assassin assassinated.

Information which once took a day or two to reach us, now slaps us in the face. We watch our country bomb the tar out of Iraq. In this age of immediate information, we might just know less.

In the early days of our country, Thomas Paine, a voice in the wilderness, stirred citizens to independence. His writing persuaded, influenced thinking.

Flash forward two hundred some odd years. Writers influence, persuade. Only the writers learned subtleness and finesse.

Some folks believe what they see on TV reflects the absolute truth. Some believe what they read on the internet. The equivalent of a Petri dish for massive mind control only more insidious. Wag the Dog.

I am not one of those "a Martian resides in the Dumpster" folks. I just know the power of the press and how easily urban myths and untruths spread and gain legitimacy.

Think people.

* * *

I spent the day in bed again yesterday. I spent so much time there, my back began to hurt.

* * *

I found the answer about astronauts. I wonder what you would say. I miss you.

Later.