I miss news.
I love to watch the evening news. I used to watch the 5:00 local, the 5:30 national, and then the 6:00 local. And when we are on trips and have cable in hotel rooms, I like to watch the news networks. When I was on maternity leave with Charlie, The Today Show and a cup of coffee was my morning routine (and then The View, Divorce Court, Judge Judy, Tyra, Dr. Phil, Oprah, and then? The news again, of course. It's possible I had a TV problem, but when you are pinned beneath a nursing infant and you can't reach your stash of 18th Century Russian Literature, what else are you supposed to do? Snort).
In high school I made time for Harry Smith every morning and Dan Rather every evening (more info-tainment, yes I know). I attempted to read my mom's Newsweeks, even though much of it wasn't actually interesting to me at the time, in an attempt to develop my "serious intellectual" side (I also spent a lot of time doing my homework in Starbucks, at the time the closest thing we had to a coffee house in my shiny suburban world.).
I don't get to watch any news now that Charlie is older. We don't have cable, so the only news available is on when he is awake. Even the relatively sanitized for stay at home moms Today Show has pictures of burned out, upside down cars and lots of words I'd rather not explain to Charlie yet--drunk, high, murder, killed, terrorist, war, Botox, Cheney. Instead I have my Newsweek, which should be called News-six-weeks based on how long it takes me to get through it with my fractured attention, and the paper on weekends.
When I was growing up my mom had a tiny black and white TV mounted under a kitchen cabinet. I remember her sitting on a kitchen chair, sipping coffee and watching Donahue. We knew it had better be important (blood, fire, tornado) if we were to so much as set one toe in that kitchen during Donahue. Or make noise of any kind--fortunately we spent most of our time playing Sega and listening to records in the basement anyway.
I always wondered why she didn't kick us out of the family room and use the big TV for that hour, but I get it now.
She didn't care if she had to listen to it on a transistor radio standing outside in the rain if it meant we would leave her alone for one. single. solitary. hour. A kitchen chair, my favorite show, a hot cup of coffee? It sounds like heaven to me now.
Oh to be able to set those kinds of boundaries.
For now I sneak my news in five minute bits standing in the living room with the kids nearby in the playroom, my thumb on the "input" button ready to switch over to Curious George on DVD at a moment's notice.
Something about Brian William's voice calms me. What can I say?
I think what I need is a TV in my kitchen. I could put it near The Rug, which is where I stand when I am doing things that are sharp or hot. Children are not allowed on The Rug. It is my three-by-five foot sanctuary.
Because I am weary of knowing more about what happened on Curious George than the contents of the House's version of Obamacare. Are they even calling it that anymore?