Television - oh how it's changed.

Crank phone with shared line

A little over a year ago, my wife and I cancelled the landline for our home phone. The number was transferred to Nicola marking the end of an era. No more checking phone messages at the end of a holiday. No more telemarketing. No more phoning our house and wondering who’ll pick up. (which our daughter misses the most. Now, she has to decide which parent she’ll phone where before, it was a crap shoot.) 

The landline symbolized home. To know a phone number was to know an address. It began with a stem phone with common connection shared among neighbours followed by the rotary phone, then the pushbutton phone and finally, the cordless phone. And then, the cell phone. The cell phone has no sense of place. It goes with its owner to work, a restaurant, a friend’s, on holiday or the side of the road where it fell from a pocket. 

The old television with rabbit ears

In the same tradition of our landline, my wife and I are going to cancel our land-based television services. Television has been changing for some time. At one time, television reception was made by possible by a rabbit-ear antenna attached to the back of the television or, on occasion, an antenna sprouting from the roof of a house. The number of channels would be limited to one, two or three channels dependent on the location of your residence. All through her childhood, my wife and her family could enjoy only programs provided by CBC while, reception in Edmonton received programming from both CBC, CTV and later, ITV now known as Global.

The Junior Forest Rangers - XNY556

CBC alone provided lots viewing that could be shared by family, friends, classmates and workmates. Few of us who’ve reached a certain age did not see the “Ed Sullivan Show” or “Bonanza,” “Star Trek” or “Bewitched’,” “The Wide World of Disney” or “Hockey Night in Canada,” “Razzle Dazzle” or “The Junior Forest Rangers. Just mention their walkie talkie handle XNY556 and you’ll get a whole generation of Canadians talking about Chub Stanley, George Keeley, Uncle Raoul and Joe Two Rivers.

Bruce Springsteen talks about seeing Elvis Presley on the “Ed Sullivan Show” on October 28, 1956 as a seminal moment in his life. Seeing Presley singing “Hound Dog” as a seven-year-old freed his mind and welcomed the possibilities of an unknown, unseen future that he wanted to be part of. All his friends and family would have shared in that experience as would all the young people of Canada and the U.S. The same kind of awakening would happen with the appearance of Beatles on the same program in 1964.

Elvis on Ed Sullivan

With time, cable would replace the medium of transmission for television programs. The number of channels multiplied and the opportunity for shared experiences diminished. Our sources of entertainment, news and information became ever more customized to our own particular interests, tastes and, to an increasing degree, our opinions on various subjects such as religion, fashion, music, sports, and political issues.

The shared experience of watching the same show at the same time no longer existed. Even the shows on cable television have largely been recorded, first on VHS, then, for a short period, DVDs and finally, hard drives as occur today. I’ve got the point where the only live events I watch every year are the Grey Cup and the Super Bowl and rarely hockey after the disintegration of the Edmonton Oilers since the early 2000s minus one ray of light when the team made the conference final two years ago. (Okay, I’m not a big sports fan. That said, if I get the urge, I can subscribe to TSN online and get it anywhere, anytime. I’m not locked into a contract with a hundred other channels that don’t interest me.)

Bruce on Broadway

The final nail in the coffin of came with streaming and the introduction of services provided by Netflix, YouTube, Amazon and Crave. Suddenly, people could binge watch any episode of television of any movie whenever they like. And there are thousands to choose from. I can see Bruce Springsteen’s Broadway show for which it was impossible to get tickets even though we were in New York when he was performing it. And I can learn about the huge impact of Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan show and the, on my television, I can watch that same performance to which Mr. Springsteen is referring on YouTube. Yet, the odds of watching the same show or movie on any particular day with a relative, friend, or colleague is practically zero. They may have seen the show or movie in the past but the shared moment wouldn’t exist.  

On the bright side, there’s Facebook and Twitter, those monolithic corporations that monitor our every word, and movement unless that feature is turned off on your settings. With our computers, smartphones and tablets, we’ve connected to a different kind of community that may include people you haven’t seen in years (or decades) for some. That connection can include shared viewing of television and movies. I used to follow John Doyle of the Globe and Mail until that newspaper shut down their stories to only subscribers. Occasionally, a Facebook friend will post a recommendation but this is very occasional.

I listen to a podcast called “Kermode and Mayo’s Film Review” which is also a BBC 4 broadcast every Friday.  As well as reviewing for the BBC, Mark Kermode also writes for the “Guardian.” Simon Mayo has hosted a number of programs most having to do with music. As well as reviewing the various movies of the week, picking DVD of the week, and the So Bad It’s Bad movie of the week, listeners write in with their own reviews of the movies of the week. So, the listener not only hears the opinions of Mark, the professional, but also the larger listening audience. When the movie, “The Greatest Show on Earth” was released last year, Mark panned it. His audience loved it and the movie went on to spend weeks in the top ten list for the U.K. Those who listen and call-in are referred to as “members of the church” and the format is known euphemistically as wittertainment. Listeners are often known to end their ramblings with a “say hello to Jason Isaacs.” It’s stupid thing to say but it’s a community, one that shares movies that they’ve all watched recently or are considering watching.

It’s those kind of communities, I and others have evolved or devolved to, people we don’t know or, besides the hosts, have any idea what they look like. Strangers. But without broadcasts that people actually watch like the old days, those are the people with whom I share a common interest, newspaper columnists like John Doyle or A.O. Scott for the New York Times.

I miss those days where a reference to a movie or T.V. character has instant recognition. But, except for the occasional super hero or iconic movie character, those days are gone. And so, it’s with a heavy heart that I return my cable box to Telus and join my children in the age of streaming.