As a child of the ’80s, I grew up with television – albeit the kind you had to get up and change the channel on manually. TV commercials were great for bathroom breaks or grabbing a drink from the kitchen.

By high school, we finally got cable and — gasp! — a remote control. HBO ran its movies somewhere along the lines of 35 times a day, and I saw Star Wars more times than I can even count. But no pause button, so if I had to make a trip to the little girls’ room, I’d miss something.

On viewing No. 4,236 of Star Wars, that wasn’t an issue, but if it was the HBO premiere of Down and Out in Beverly Hills, well, you just might have had to miss the part “when a dirty bum meets the filthy rich.”

We had one of those old clunky first-gen VCRs the approximate size of Rhode Island that actually had a remote pause button, but it had to be connected via a cord that snaked across the room. It was so unweildy, actually, that I believe I used it only once, during a marathon viewing of Galactica 1980. (Hey, I was incredibly crushed over the cancellation of the original BSG, I was ready to latch onto anything. Even Wolfman Jack with a Cylon.)

In college, I didn’t really watch much TV the first couple of years, seeing as I didn’t have one in my dorm room. I do recall a friend freshman year who was, more or less, driven out of her room when her roomie and roomie’s boyfriend watched Dirty Dancing on VHS every night for what seemed an eternity but may have been only a week or two.

By junior year, we had a very old TV set with rabbit ears. Still had to change the channel manually. But we had a TV, and it was Chicago, so we got probably a half-dozen stations. Those last two years of college, I ended up seeing every episode of Charles in Charge (hey, when you’re trying to avoid homework, your standards can be extremely low) and my three roommates got me addicted to All My Children.

We watched the finale of Twin Peaks, huddled together on the sofa, screaming as Dale Cooper made his way through the Red Room. We watched American Gladiators religiously, each having “our” own gladiator (Nitro was mine). We would watch Saturday Night Live every week, hoping there was a Wayne’s World skit and ticked off when we’d wasted our time for nothing. (Being in the Central Time Zone, it ended early enough for us to still go out to parties, which didn’t start until really late anyhow.)

TV didn’t play a big part in my life for the first few years out of college; I was busy, I was working. I mean, I stayed up and watched Letterman sometimes and if I had insomnia, I always hoped to catch that infomercial where they spray-painted hair on some balding guy’s head and marveled at how real it looked.

Then came Melrose Place. The guys I worked with were even more addicted than the girls. For one season finale, I ordered a bunch of pizzas and we all yelled at the TV whenever anyone did anything stupid, which was quite often.

I’ve had TV on and off in all the years since, but the last few years brought the most significant changes of all: we got a DVR and had two children. The DVR meant I could still watch the shows I wanted to — Lost, The Sopranos, The Wire — even if they were utterly inappropriate for the kiddies. Just wait ’til they’re asleep and presto!

But even more significantly, it meant I no longer had to watch commercials. Unless I’m watching a live sports event, I virtually never see commercials anymore. Even with Lost and Battlestar Galactica, appointment television if there ever was, I wait until about 15 minutes into the broadcast and start watching. It ends at the same time, but I get to fast-forward through all the commercials.

I consider this to be a golden age of television.

Despite all the reality and competition shows and all the absolute dreck that’s on our hundreds of channels, there are so many truly excellent shows. Battlestar Galactica, 24 (despite Season Six’s crapapalooza), Big Love. We just said goodbye to The Sopranos, The Wire and Jericho.

The serialized drama is king, and I am but a slave to its charms. Science fiction is my favorite, but I just love a good story. And if you can make me laugh in the bargain, it’s all good. (Thanks, Beth, for introducing me to the boys from Supernatural!)

TV’s made me new friends (Jane, Yvonne, Erika, everyone else from the Jericho fandom, plus all the kooky boys from Blogs4Bauer) and made me laugh (check out The Big Bang Theory, if you haven’t already).

This blog is my way of sharing all that with you.

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