Good TV / Bad TV
We cannot avoid judging everything through a filter. That filter is composed of whatever is important to us at that given moment in our lives.
When television was new and I was a child, “good TV” was defined as a televised-live, theatrical production, or perhaps an opera. It was quality programming provided by the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS), Kraft Television Theater, Playhouse 90, the Hallmark Hall of Fame and the BBC dramatic productions to name but a few. For a while, it was “Sixty Minutes” which held us spellbound, until we no longer depended limited sources of information.
As television and I both matured, it became a source of news analysis and information upon which we all depended. It became an important part of our lives. We often scheduled our lives around a specific program which we adored, and most of us went to sleep in the U.S. with the soothing voice of Johnny Carson on our television screens.
Fast forward to the present, when many of us have televisions in every room – not to mention access to it on computers, tablets and telephones. Now we have access – through VOD (video on demand) and You Tube among many resources – to hundreds of thousands of programs, educational, entertaining, and captivating to the viewing audience.
Television has changed. But then, we humans are in constant evolution as well. Our needs differ as we get older, and those of us caring for a loved one with dementia have very different proclivities regarding the programming which we now select.
My lovely mother-in-law (of blessed memory) was placed into a nursing care-home when her mental decline became a danger to others. One day when she was cooking, she noticed that the oil from the frying pan was alight and had set the curtains “on-fire.” She did not panic. She called for my Hubby (her son) sitting in the adjoining room, to help. Had he not been there at the time, the building would have burned to the ground along with the residents within.
When we would visit Mama in the home, we found large stuffed chairs in a semi-circle facing a television. The “telly,” (after all, she was in England) was turned on. The residents were either asleep or not interested in the program. The large box with a screen had become a “baby-sitter” while the staff prepared tea and cookies, or the next meal.
As I have mentioned in a previous chapter (Parallel Realities), Hubby has become very confused by the programs he sees on our television. They are too complicated for him to follow. He often thinks that they are in a different language, when they are not. He improvises his conclusions about the storyline which is a form of entertainment in itself. But the television gives him little joy. It greatly confuses him. He often falls asleep (sitting bolt-upright), after failing to understand the storyline or how the characters are connected to one another.
This past week while scanning the possible films to select for viewing, I noticed that there was remake of West Side Story. The musical had been one of my favorites and I decided to see if it could really be improved-upon sixty years later. Whilst Hubby generally falls asleep within fifteen minutes of the beginning of a televised film, he was totally connected to the musical. He was smiling. He was singing the songs which he had known but not accessed for decades. He was fascinated by the dancing (which was indeed outstanding), and best of all, he was smiling for the entire two hours.
Did I think the film was better than the original? No, but the voices were excellent and I understood why the producers wanted to give the story a new life with young actors who would appeal to a totally new audience. The issues really have not changed in the past sixty years. Gangs exist. Prejudice and hatred exist. Worthless loss of life exists. Love exists. The storyline was always an updated version of “Romeo and Juliet.” Some themes are indeed eternal.
Why did it take me so long to put the pieces of this puzzle together? I had already discovered that he loved singing to the recordings of Frank Sinatra and his friends. Why had my brain not considered the same format for visual entertainment?
The next day I went searching for more musical delights on the television. I selected a Barbra Streisand special. Hubby was mesmerized. Again, he recognized many of the songs and sang along with Barbra. I was mildly irritated by her graciously thanking her audience for coming to her concert, knowing that they paid as much as a thousand US dollars to do so. She should thank them! They were paying for one of her homes in Beverly Hills! Again, I was mildly annoyed that she dedicated the evening to her poodle, and that we were “treated” to endless videos clips of the dog at play.
Hubby never noticed anything negative at all. He loved every moment. So the next night I looked for more musical films, and found one I had never heard of, “The Prom.” It starred Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman. The look on Hubby’s face as the story was presented in excellent song and dance was worth fortunes. He was having such fun. The story was uncomplicated. Musicals usually have a simple story line (although not always…one could note Les Miserables as an exception). The costumes in “The Prom” were colorful. The dancing was energizing. Hubby dreams of being able to dance again. It is quite impossible as he is no longer stable on his legs. But he was on that dance floor in his imagination. The joy he was experiencing has not been duplicated by any real-life experiences in years. (Except perhaps when he sings with Frank Sinatra).
Hubby never closed his eyes for a moment. He never asked the time. He never complained. He was mesmerized and we both found a two-hour slice of heaven to cherish. I will spend considerable effort to play one of these musicals every evening. No more knife-wielding mass murderers, or “police shoot-ups” to invade hubby’s dreams and seep into his daily fears. If we would not impose such viewing on a sweet, innocent child, why would we do so for a loved one with cognitive decline?
When we look at a loved one with dementia, it is easy to fall into the mindset that their life cannot be capable of pleasure or joy. When family members turn over their care to institutions, or are not a part of the day-to-day life of a mother, father, husband, wife, or sibling,there is no question that depression will be a by-product. This is clearly avoidable with love and attention.
In that regard, we are all very much the same.
