Turn off the TV

My mother resides in an assisted living facility. She’s 86 years old, mostly blind do to macular degeneration and she uses a walker to get around. Mostly, she’s doing well and the assisted living place keeps her plenty busy and social – important since she cannot live independently and since she lost her lifelong companion, my father, nearly three years ago. She called the other day to let me know that the place is under quarantine due to various illnesses – stomach bugs, upper respiratory infections, the flu, etc.

For most of the population, any of those ailments would prove to be nuisances of varying degrees – a few days away from work, school, feeling a bit lousy for a week or two, etc. The flu can knock us off our feet for longer, but it’s almost always a temporary malady. For elderly folks like my mother and her assisted living brethren, there’s nothing minor about any of those illnesses. They often lead to catastrophic outcomes. And so the quarantine, while annoying, becomes necessary.

My mother is relegated to life in her small room, the equivalent of a studio apartment. Her meals are brought to her. If she wants to wander the hallways, she would be required to wear a mask and stay close to her room; “I don’t want to be bothered with that mask,” she says. The usual social activities in the morning and the afternoon have been canceled. She’s basically a shut-in. Oh sure, she has the Smart Speaker that her hotshot grandson out in California, the one who works for Amazon, set up for her. So she can say, “Alexa, play 1950s music” or “Alexa, play Three Coins in a Fountain (her wedding song).” But after a while, that easy listening sound can get monotonous too. So she turns on the TV – not the best medium for a mostly blind old lady. Hell, not the best medium for any of us!

At the risk of sounding arrogant: I don’t really watch TV. Like, barely at all. When I checked in to my hotel room in Boston last Friday night, for some reason, the TV was on. I scurried for the remote to turn it off quickly, like trying to eradicate an invasive species. I wasn’t always like this; I watched my fair share of sitcoms and game shows growing up; I used to love my sports. I used to be glued to the Weather Channel, but now an app on my phone tells me everything I need to know. During the baseball season the TV will be on (oh yes, last Monday I was riveted to the MLB Network for the Hall of Fame announcement, so yeah, I do watch a little TV). I suppose I’ll watch the Super Bowl. Other than that, it’s off. A conversation with my mother confirmed why that should be.

Before the quarantine, my mother rarely turned on the TV. She keeps busy, and then when she gets in her room she has Alexa make some phone calls to family members and old friends, and then it’s time for bed. Again, TV isn’t a huge draw for a visually impaired old lady. Now, during one of the quarantine calls, she updated me on everything she’s “watching.” She ranted about Trump and the wall and the government shutdown and Schumer and Pelosi and all that other political garbage. She updated me about all the gloom-and-doom news out of New Jersey. “Did you hear what happened in Paterson?” Something’s always happening in Paterson, she says. She told me about drug addicts crashing cars into foundations of houses. A bus crash on Route 80. Various other terrible news centered in northern New Jersey. So there you have it. Bad news. Calamities. Criminals. Drugs. Endless politics, screaming from both sides. Ma. Grab the remote. Turn it off. Make some phone calls. Go to bed early. You’ll be better off for it.