I am an avid PBS watcher. How impressive is that?
Television–the “idiot box” as my mother delights in saying–is not generally regarded as an intellectual pursuit. Saying, “I am an avid watcher of the WB,” will not go over well with the wine and cheese set (which is fine–you don’t want to hang out with them anyway because they are drunks with awful cheese breath). Most people regard reading as universally better than watching television. Television is full of poorly developed plots involving gratuitous casual sex–not the kind of thing you would find in say, a Danielle Steel novel.
Nevertheless, PBS escapes that negative connotation. PBS is smart television. Of course, no one watches it because of the fact that it is smart television, but there you go. And really, when I say I am an avid watcher, I mean that I watch it once or twice a week for maybe an hour. And I should say that I do not have cable. And I am bed-ridden. But still, two hours a week on PBS is more than most people, and so I define that as “avid” watching.
PBS has a reputation for being very conservative and full of old fuddy-duddy stuff, but in reality I find PBS to be very revolutionary and crazy. Here is a network that says, “Up yours, America! You want 30 minutes of loud comedy, huge celebrities and enormous budgets? Well here’s a 4-hour documentary on the evolution of the wing nut!” I mean, how cool is that?
In a society full of Hollywood executives terrified to try out new and innovative things at the risk of bombing in the ratings, PBS is a bold, in your face network that clearly bases its decisions on the whims and interests of the four people that happen to be in the office on any given day.
PBS does nothing you’d expect. PBS is willing to invest more time in the insightful analysis of paint sales over the last 100 years in the town of Putney, Vermont than many parents are willing to invest in the education and nurturing of their own children. The famous Civil War documentary was on TV for at least as long as it took to actually fight the Civil War. But PBS keeps you guessing, too. After sitting through a 27-hour miniseries on the history of thread, you might suddenly find yourself watching a 20-minute special entitled, “The Entire History of the Universe.”
PBS also is not confined by society’s definition of who is famous. If PBS decides someone is famous, then damned if they will not be promoted as if they were the biggest thing to ever hit the planet. Ever seen the Mark Russell comedy specials? It’s the guy with glasses and a piano painted like an American flag who does a couple political jokes and then suddenly bursts into a song about NAFTA in front of an audience who’s average age is 87 years old. But if you see the commercials for this guy you would think he was the best thing since sliced bread (which is pretty damn good!): “Tonight! Mark Russell does comedy! Mark Russell! Can you believe it?! We managed to get Mark Russell!!”
And PBS doesn’t believe in hiding its content behind flashy effects and production values either. When David Letterman does a talk show he has: a band, a sidekick, a scale model of the Manhattan skyline with working lights behind him, a studio audience and all kinds of video effects and flashy opening credits sequences. When Charlie Rose does a talk show he has: a table.
Indeed, PBS has utter contempt for you the viewer! PBS enjoys taunting you. Ever seen a commercial for an upcoming PBS show? The commerical is 20 minutes long and appears to be designed to make you think that you are actually watching the show. Just when you start to get into it, the announcer comes on and says, “On the next ‘Frontline.’” And as if that wasn’t enough, PBS feels that it does not need to actually tell you when the show will be. Sometimes they might just say, “On the next ‘Nova.’” Full stop. The implication being, “Of course, you know when the next Nova is, right?” Let’s hope you do. Occasionally, however, for something not part of a regular series they might throw you a bone. “Watch ‘Cheeses of the Ming Dynasty’ only on PBS once this April. Then we will burn the master tapes forever, and you will never see it again.” Great, so they’ve narrowed it down to a month for you–good luck!
How do they get away with it? Because with no commercials, PBS is under no pressure to conform. How can they have no commercials? Because PBS’ key demographic is dead. Yes! PBS programming is specifically targeted at 60-year old professionals from the year 1954. It reflects nothing of our society today. Think about it: if aliens monitoring our society watched only PBS what would they think of human beings? We would be a highly-educated culture devoted to opera, classical music and British situation comedies made in the ’70s. On a Sunday night, there is nothing the family would enjoy more than gathering around the TV to watch a 6-hour word-for-word adaptation of “Middlemarch.” During the day, all we would do is watch puppets do math in the mornings, and then either paint or cook highly complex foods in the afternoons. Is this the society we live in today?
For me, PBS is a rebel. A tough guy in a soft TV world of reality crapfests and carbon-copy sitcoms spewed out by a Hollywood more concerned with image and gloss than substance. Maybe they can win me back; maybe I’ll respect the networks someday, but I doubt it.
So if next week, you happen to be watching NBC, and you see a show about two math detectives who carry pocket calculators in their shoulder holsters and solve crimes involving prime numbers, call me. I’ll be at home tapping my toes to a little jingle about the ABM treaty.