A message came back from the great beyond
There’s fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on
Fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on
Fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on – Bruce Springsteen
The irony was not lost on me that the Nielsen company that keeps track of TV viewership had disturbed me with a phone call while I was watching television.
They had been merciless in trying to contact me to explore my viewing habits.
E-mails from Nielsens wanted to know more about me. My mailbox was crammed with offers from the company, including a diary in which I was to log every program I was watching.
That made me uncomfortable.
I realized I should voice my opinion on TV programs, so I could object to such weak offerings as reality weight-loss shows, dating disasters and other curious programs.
And don’t get me started on an episode of the (infamous) Honey Boo Boo that was spent discussing feminine hygiene products.
Anyway, the Powers That Be don’t listen to me anyway, when such great shows like Hill Street Blues get axed.
NOW they want my attention.
Sorry, TV people. Guess I’ll seek comfort with DVD box sets of Cheers and MASH.
So don’t call me.