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Watching a Movie Ten Minutes at a Time

I see maybe two hours of TV in a week. One hour consists of 10 minutes here, 15 minutes there, of just random tidbits throughout the week. Mostly some news and/or weather in the mornings while getting ready for work. The second hour is what I manage to catch in our bedroom on Saturday morning while the boys are watching a couple of cartoons in the living room. I very rarely get to see any TV on the big screen in the living room.

Yesterday, though, it looked like I was going to get a little more. Just after noon, the boys had already eaten their lunch, and were upstairs playing well with each other. I was downstairs in the kitchen making me some lunch, thinking I might just sit and eat with the big TV. It could be a nice little spur of the moment indulgence.

I got my meal, and sat down in front of the downstairs TV. My timing was randomly perfect; V for Vendetta was just starting. I remember seeing the trailers back when it was in theaters, and I thought it might be interesting to catch a few minutes of it while I ate. I might actually get to watch half an hour.

Forty-five minutes later, I was hooked on it. The boys had continued playing quietly upstairs, but it was time for one of Calfgrit10’s friends to come over. Usually when one of the boys’ friends come over to play, they all three hang out upstairs or outside and play for a couple hours without needing direct parental attention. That’s usually a great time for me to get stuff done around the house or on this web site. So I figured I might actually get to watch the whole movie. I was excited, it would be cool. It was a good movie so far, but it wasn’t something for the boys to see. (Violence and subject matter inappropriate for 6 and 10 year olds.)

When the friend arrived, I turned off the TV, and answered the door. My boys came downstairs, the friend came in, and then all three ran upstairs. Yay! I talked with the friend’s parents for a minute, and then I was able to get back to the movie.

Ten minutes later, the boys came downstairs with Nerf guns in hand. I clicked off the TV as they came into the living room. They told me they wanted to play Nerf guns, and I told them they had to go outside for that. “OK,” they said. A couple minutes later and they were out, and I turned the TV back on.

Ten minutes later, the boys came back inside. I clicked the TV off again. They were done with Nerf gun fighting. When they bounded back upstairs, I turned on the TV again.

Ten minutes later, the boys came downstairs again. I clicked the TV off again. They had plastic lightsabers and wanted to sword fight. Again, I told them they had to go outside for that. “OK,” they said, and out they went. I turned the TV back on.

Ten minutes later, the boys came back inside. I clicked off the TV again. They were thirsty and wanted water. A couple minutes later, they charged back outside.

Ten minutes later, the boys came back inside, and I clicked off the TV again. All this in and out interruption got repeated over and over and over.

This wasn’t a DVD I was watching, where I could pause it and restart it. This was a TV channel. So every time I turned off the TV, the movie continued on with its action and plot. Half the time I had the TV on, it was showing commercials. Hell, I don’t think I even saw a full commercial without interruption.

The action and plot that I was seeing, was interesting, and I really wanted to follow it and see how it went and ended. But after interruption after interruption, I just dropped my head into my hands.

Really? Come on!

So now I’ve seen half of V for Vendetta. Not the first half, not the last half, not even half in the middle. I’ve seen half of every 10 minutes of the whole two hours. It’s like having read a book with every other page torn out.

This all just validates and confirms why I usually see very little TV. It’s better to not even bother trying when the effort turns out so frustrating. It was foolish, even dumb, to think of trying to watch an adult, (not-for-kids), TV show in the middle of a Sunday with kids in the house. Really, I did this frustration to myself. And even with continuing to put in the effort against all obvious problems, I still don’t know how the damn story ends.

Bullgrit

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