TV. It is an amazingly central part of our existence. I will be the first to admit to the fact that the TV was always on in my home growing up. I can still recall my first TV in my bedroom. It was the old black and white that used to sit in our kitchen, so we could watch while we ate. At the risk of dating myself, there was at that time a new TV show called "The Fall Guy" which starred the Six-Million Dollar Man. I watched it every Wednesday night. It wasn't until years later that I realized that his 4x4 pickup truck was actually brown. In my black & white world I had always imagined it to be a blue truck. I was more than just a little disappointed.

Although I was raised on television, I am not proud of it. Television is an enormous time sink, and more-and-more of that time is devoted to commercials. Several months ago, prior to The Idea, we actually increased our cable bill by getting a box with a digital video recorder (DVR). We started watching all shows on DVR, where we could zip right by the commercials. It was amazing that we could start watching our favorite shows 15-20 minutes after they started and "catch up" to the live broadcast by the time the hour was over. We quickly discovered that the DVR solved only one problem with television. The other problem is the lack of quality programming. We recorded only a half-dozen (O.K., maybe a few more) shows per week and were paying over $50 per month for the privilege.

As a result of our recently successful garage sale, we were warm to the idea of converting assets into kitty dollars. And of course, there it was, sitting in the corner of our living room. A dollar and time consuming machine.

Friday night is cocktail night in our home. I enjoy my once-a-week martini (the rest of the week I drink scotch) while Sheryl has a gin and tonic. This particular Friday night must have concluded a rather rough week, because I recall making a second martini. Big mistake. I'm certain that many people have made more egregious errors in judgment while under the influence, but I poured my heart out to my spouse regarding my hopeless addiction to TV. I pleaded to Sheryl, "Help me." We made a commitment then and there to cut off the cable. In an effort to ease the transition, we kept one TV and VCR in a spare bedroom upstairs, a rabbit ear antenna extended on top. We record to tape two, somewhat grainy, shows per week. They are my television methadone.

D-day (disconnect day) has come and gone, the television and entertainment center have been removed from the living room, and we have lived sans cable TV for two weeks. I have found that most people do a double-take when I tell them that we don't have cable. It makes me proud to be thinking outside the box. Perhaps, someday, we will even free ourselves from our closet habit of those two over-the-air TV shows. Besides, I don't think that 27-inch box will fit on a boat.