One of the joys of being a big sister is telling my younger sister when she's doing something incorrectly and pointing out her flaws on a regular basis.
It's a job that I take pretty seriously. I'd ask my sister, Lynne, to vouch for this but she's not speaking to me at the moment. (Note to self: tell Lynne she needs to work on being overly sensitive).
I hope she gets over it soon, because I have some important advice to give her. Lynne recently had a birthday — sort of a big one —and I'm afraid she's going to run out of time. If she wants to make her mark in the world, then she needs to clear her calendar and get down to business. Because, with this birthday, Lynne is in her final year of being in the Nielsen TV ratings coveted 18-49 year-old demographic.
Once you hit 50, it's all over as far as TV executives and their sponsors are concerned. I've passed that milestone, so I know what I'm talking about. After spending the last few weeks flipping channels through the networks' latest fall offerings, I can tell you that television is a young person's game.
For all those years when I was a member of that valued age group, I took for granted that television programming would always reflect my preferences. So I happily frittered away hour after hour in front of the TV, not fully understanding the power of my channel choices. I was just as content to listen to Jan complain about, "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha," as I was to watch for "Zee plane, zee plane!"
All that's changed. Oh, sure, I can still watch TV as long as I realize that I'm no longer the target audience. It's not that I haven't tried to recapture the glory days of my TV watching youth, because I have.
Plenty of times I've attempted to find something worth watching. But before I know it, prime time becomes late night and I stumble away from the TV, bleary eyed, realizing there's no way in hell I can keep up with the Kardashians.
It doesn't help that I struggle to find a character I can identify with. Network executives have neatly pigeonholed women my age. It's hard to relate to the shrewish mother/mother-in-law who is oversexed and controlling. After all, I'm not a shrew.
It may be too late for my viewing habits to affect what's on TV, but not so for Lynne. So, dear sister, you need to become more discriminating in the shows you choose to watch. If you won't do it for me, then do it for all the other over-50s out there. Otherwise, we'll be stuck in our Golden Years watching "Murder She Wrote" reruns and The Golf Channel.
I've made it easy for you, as usual, by coming up with a few strategies to help us take back TV:
(1.) Learn to work your remote. Seriously. Do it now so you know how to use it without looking at it. Because one of these days you're going to realize the writing's too small on all those buttons, dagnabbit, and you'll be stuck with whatever channel your kids were watching last. And I guarantee you, it's more likely to be Bridezilla than that nice Jessica Fletcher.
(2.) Watch anything with "Masterpiece" in the title. It doesn't matter if it's Masterpiece Theater Presents The Chronicles of Young Twitchworth of Hedgerow-on-Spittlefork or the K.C. Masterpiece Barbecued Chitterlings Cook-Off. It's your way of letting the networks know that you demand quality programming.
(3.) Pack your bags, kiss the husband and kids goodbye and hit the road. It's time to find documentarian Ken Burns and become his groupie. I don't care if he's currently working on a seven-part series on sea slugs, you need to encourage the man.
(4.) Only watch programs with subtitles. This is a trick that art house cinema snobs have been using for years. People assume shows not done in English are for intellectuals, so only watching things with subtitles demonstrates you have discerning taste. Oh, wait. I've just been informed that "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" has subtitles. Never mind.
So that's the plan. As your big sister, I have the privilege of informing you that you're not getting any younger. Now you need to — as our mother would so lovingly put it — get your lazy butt in gear because I haven't got all day. You owe it to us geezers.
Betsy Bitner is author of the blog lostintheadirondacks.com and a mystery writer. She divides her time between Clifton Park and the Adirondacks. Her email address is bbitner1@nycap.rr.com.