We all, of course, have heard of "road rage," that phenomenon that occurs when otherwise sane, normal people encounter one of the inevitable frustrations of the American highway and start behaving like armed wolverines on crack.
Friends, I am here to warn you of another American syndrome which has been documented in exhaustive scientific studies that spanned my entire living room. I'm talking about "TV rage." This is the psychological condition that occurs when you see something on TV that is so stupid, so mind-numbingly idiotic, that you begin jumping up and down, foaming at the mouth, and hurling things at the screen.
Now, I'm not talking about ordinary garden-variety stupid. I'm not talking about stuff like ABC's abrupt cancellation of "Cupid", which not only had one of the most original ideas I've ever seen on network TV, it was REALLY FUNNY, and it had HOT-LOOKING WOMEN on it, and if those stupid JACKASSES at ABC had just GIVEN IT A CHANCE . . . but that's not the kind of stupid I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the kind of stupid I caught on QVC the other night. Now, I promise, I don't normally watch QVC, but it's on Channel 3 on the cable system where I live, and channel 3 is the station you have to turn to to play the VCR. So I'm rewinding my tape of "Masterpiece Theater". (Okay, it was actually "Girls' Boarding School 2: Muffy's Revenge." Let's just say I'm a big fan of classic cinema.) Anyway, as the tape is rewinding, I see that one of the hosts is conversing live on the phone with "Mindy from Council Bluffs, Iowa." It seems that they actually put random QVC callers on the show. Now, if it were me, I'd be going "Look, Sparky, just sell me the Elvis commemorative edition fishing lures. It's almost time for Roller Derby." But Mindy from Council Bluffs is really getting into this conversation, which is apparently about these necklace sets that QVC is selling. So the host tells her "You should get these, they'll really look great on you." At this point, I totally lose it. I begin screaming at the TV, "YOU'VE NEVER MET HER, YOU MORON! HOW CAN YOU TELL HER THAT!? FOR ALL YOU KNOW SHE'S SOME HIDEOUS GARGOYLE WITH NO NECK!" The kids are coming out of their rooms, the dog is cowering in the corner . . . folks, it's not a pretty sight.
Even my wife--usually so lovely, so calm, so serene-- is affected by TV rage. One night in March, I came home to find my bride leaping up and down, pointing at the TV. Turns out that "ABC News" had run as its lead story, not the news of the world or the latest from our Presidential candidates, but instead the fact that Barbara Walters was interviewing Monica Lewinsky that night on ABC. "I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! THEIR LEAD STORY IS A PROMO FOR THEIR OWN STUPID INTERVIEW!!" my wife shouted before I got her with the tranquilizer dart gun that I keep in the breadbox and she collapsed.
I can see her point. ABC News has gotten utterly shameless about using its news show to pimp for its other programming, that is when Peter Jennings isn't using the network to promote his book. I can't speak for the other networks, because Jennings up till now has been the only anchor I can stand to watch. Brokaw has that bizarre, enormous head (or maybe that's Ted Koppel, I forget), and Dan Rather is . . . well, Dan Rather. Need I say more?
ABC really reached a new low when they started running promos for that "Stephen King's Storm of the Century" miniseries. Now, I will defend to the death Stephen King's right to earn yet another million dollars, but the promos were already so incessant that I was sick of the blooming thing even before the first episode aired. Then the network started crawling the commercials across the screen, disguised as actual storm warnings. Somebody needs to let the bright boys and girls in the ABC hierarchy know that folks in tornado country have NO sense of humor about fake storm warnings. I almost threw the TV out the window at this point. Good thing I have cable, because I got all confused by the wires and cables and stuff between the TV and the VCR, so I had to put it down.
I admit it, I need help. But I don't think I'm the only one. If you've ever suffered from TV rage, write to me care of this newspaper. We can get together. We can form a support group. Together, we can lick this problem. We could probably meet on Friday nights, because let's face it, there is NOTHING good on then.
© 1999 Jerry D. Rhoades, Jr.