Useful TV Content Ratings Would Gauge The Ennui

All across our land the debate rages.

Families are split. Media watchdogs battle each other. It confronts you daily.

I’m talking about The television content rating system. For weeks, I have sat on the sidelines waiting for my chance to say something profound, something that would sum up the importance, the dignity, the significance of this gift of contentious debate.

I think I finally have it: Who cares?

These two words really say a lot. In fact, I think Hallmark should dedicate a line of greeting cards to the “Who Cares?” theme.

Envision the Hallmark commercial. Picture a caveman wrestling a big, sofa-shaped rock into the cave.

His wife, meanwhile, is fiercely fending off a saber-toothed tiger. Their kids are pretty scared. She finally succeeds.

Dad, not noticing the commotion, asks proudly: “Hooh hooh glug glug brap?” which the subtitles translate as, “Honey, what do you think of our new couch?”

She and the kids, still reeling from the attack, look lovingly at him and she hands him a card emblazoned with “Who Cares?”

They embrace. The saber-toothed tiger growls in the distance. Fade to schmaltzy music.

I would buy these cards. I would send them to network television heads and media critics. I think we’ve got bigger problems.

If I can sit - and I mean sit - through “Baywatch,” “Walker, Texas Ranger,” “The Nanny” and most television shows, and then proclaim, “Gee, that’s entertainment!”, I have a bigger problem.

If I can sit through these shows and say, “You know, I think the kids would really enjoy this,” I’ve got bigger problems than navigating the TV-PG, TV-G, TV-M and TV-14 ratings. If I truly enjoy these shows, natural selection (perhaps, exploiting the caveman theme too much) has already taken its toll. My kids are already sabered-toothed tiger chow.

Perhaps an icon of “DUHHHHHHHH” at the top of the screen could replace almost all of the other rating symbols. But, again, who cares?

Alright, so I’m watching Seinfeld the other night.

That’s right, I try to get in at least three hours of television a week. My TV personal trainer pushes me to do this: “Make it hurt! Fifteen more minutes!”

Anyway, I’m watching Seinfeld and it was a pretty funny episode. Elaine was dating this guy who shaves his head. She discovers via his driver’s license that before he shaved his head he had thick, long hair. She talks him into growing it out again.

He does. But, as it comes back, they realize he is going bald. Yikes! Elaine reveals that all women hate bald-headed men.

Here’s where things get weird. During this Seinfeld episode, there were at least two commercials for Rogaine, the hair-restoring wonder drug. By the way, it’s now available without prescription. The Seinfeld show had created a need and Rogaine delivered.

With a B.A. in marketing, I marveled. With an M.A. in religious studies, I shuddered.

What other needs are being created by television and then met by products advertised? “Baywatch” and the Thighmaster? “Walker, Texas Ranger” and health insurance? “America’s Funniest Home Videos” and self-esteem seminars? “Friends” and the National Rifle Association?

Alright, I really can’t think of a connection between “Friends” and the NRA, but, an NRA motif couldn’t help but improve this show.

“Rachel, what’s wrong? Is it about us?” Ross asks, his doe eyes misting. Rachel replies between soft sobs, “Yes, Ross, it is. But it’s not only about us, it’s about every gun-owning patriot in our country. First, the liberals want to take my gun away. After that they will take you away, too. Hold me,” (sighs from the audience) “but first make sure you have the safety on” (hails of laughter). A warm embrace.

Remote control in hand, I decided to test my theory. I found the majority of commercials during prime time were for automobiles.

Automobiles? Did I miss an automotive theme during “Roseanne,” during “Home Improvement?”

About the only recurring thoughts I had while watching these programs were: “I wish I was very far away from this television right now. I wish I was engaged in an activity in which television watching was impossible. I wish I could have both of these things while going very fast, at the same time enjoying tasteful elegance.”

Maybe I was wrong after all. Television is not there to make me feel subhuman, then sell me stuff that will ensure my humanity.

Television is my friend. It only wants to entertain me in a fashion suitable to my age and sensibility. Hooh hooh glug glug brap.

xxxx

The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = John Griffith Contributing writer