It was pleasantly quiet last night. I sat in my comfy armchair and read David Copperfield. If the telly had been working I'd have watched the second episode of Michael Wood's Story of India, but I can't say I missed it.
There have been periods of my life when I haven't owned a telly. The longest was between 1998-91 (approx) when money was tight. How did I pass the time? I'm not entirely sure but I've got a mental picture of myself sitting at the kitchen table, messing about with water colours like a Victorian lady. And if there was something I really wanted to see- like the first run of the Sherlock Holmes stories with Jeremy Brett- I went to my friend's house and we had dinner and made an event of it.
I watch TV most evenings. I flip through the channels or leaf through the Radio Times and usually I'll find something to hold my attention for an hour or two. But there's very little I feel I have to watch. The last show I got wrapped up in was Rome. I like my ghostie programmes on Living and the Sci-fi channel but I'm not going to feel greatly deprived if I don't get to see them. Not being able to access the dim-witted news bulletins is a relief.
Would I want to live without the telly? No, not really; I enjoy it too much. Could I live without the telly? Oh, easily.