Kill Your Television

It’s cold and I finally have enough obligations either automated or under control that I have an unexpected surplus of free time. The sirens on the couch continually call my name, and I heed the weekend call regularly, but despite 800 channels and two streaming services, it’s rare that I can find anything to watch.

I try repeatedly to fill that gap with fishing programming. Amazon Prime and Netflix have a little, but DirecTV has more, so I set the DVR to record shows…and then I end up watching only a fraction of a portion of them.

It’s not that I don’t crave good content. I’ve learned to love the endless rabbit hole of YouTube’s content, not just the pro-level stuff, but also the amateur uploads. But TV, which should have higher budgets and higher production values continually falls short. In many respects, the lion’s share of shows don’t advance beyond the formula popularized in the 1970s and 1980s. Talk, promote, catch massive fish, repeat. It worked then, but we’re wiser now, just as even a great movie from the 1940s falls short when it comes to special effects, scenery, and in some cases even action.

With only 22 minutes of actual airtime, they don’t have a lot of runway, but it’s enough to make something valuable. So why don’t many of them get it done? I understand that it’s sponsors and hosts who pay the bills, but if you fluff them up for 5 or 7 minutes, you’ve lost a sizeable percentage of your canvas. I continue to hopefully DVR shows – fly and conventional, freshwater and salt, domestic and abroad – and even with the power of fast-forwarding I rarely make it to the end. Saddest of all is when the TV guide (not the book, old-timers, the one on the screen) tells me that they’ll be going to one of my dream destinations – perhaps Argentina or the Seychelles or Oman – and realize partway through that if this show was the only evidence I had to plan an upcoming trip I’d likely shelve those plans and go somewhere else.

But here’s the rub – the massive number of these shows demonstrates that there’s still an appetite for them, and that endemic sponsors see their value. I suppose that air time on some of these channels at less-than-optimal hours can be bought for a song. That might weigh in favor of not improving the overall quality. On the other hand, with cable subscriptions diminishing (and YouTubers continuing to thrive), perhaps at some point the number of slots will shrink, edging out some of the lesser lights in this universe. Some of us old-timers will cling to our televisions, whether they’re flat screens or the boxy console models that we rested our Hungry Man Dinners on in the 70s.

I want there to be better content, with network-quality production values.

I want them to take me somewhere, teach me something, a distinctive fish catch or two is the icing on the cake.

Don’t TELL me how great something is. Show me how great it is (or isn’t). Stop selling so overtly.

The good news is that we’re living in a golden age of television overall. There are so many options – so many great options – that you can’t watch them all. The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, etc., all recent innovations. I’ve missed some of the other “water cooler” shows out now or recently because we can’t justify adding more streaming services, but I know that their average content is better than “BJ and the Bear.”

Someone’s going to crack the code and make a great literary, educational show, with world-class cinematography. That may be what we need to bring outsiders into our world. If nothing else, it’ll break the logjam.