I will never enjoy watching a TV show in a streaming video format as much as watching that same show on a DVD I purchased.
Oh, I know that’s where
we’re headed, and eventually our televisions will be linked with our computers
and mobile devices, and every TV show ever made will be uploaded into a big Apple-owned cloud, and we’ll push a
button and it will begin playing in a few seconds.
But I’ll always prefer
DVDs. For me, there’s a satisfaction in the ownership of a television series in
a physical format, which cannot be replicated by having an episode of that
series materialize for a few moments, and then disappear back into a distant,
ephemeral mass of coded data.
To appreciate the difference,
I think you have to be old enough to remember when all of television
programming existed outside the viewer’s control. Back in the day, if you
wanted to watch The Bob Newhart Show, you had to be home on Saturday night at 9:30, with the TV tuned
to CBS. There was no setting of DVRs or recording on videocassette. There
was no CBS app on an iPad. You watched the show when it aired, or you missed
it.
And that is why, when the
TV-on-DVD market was inaugurated with shows like The X-Files, I began counting the days until the release of The
Brady Bunch.
I have only very distant
memories of first-run Brady
viewing. But following its five- year run the show went into syndication in
practically every US market, and Chicago was no exception. So I really first
came to know and love the series when it aired weekday afternoons on WFLD,
channel 32.
As with many fans, one of
my favorite episodes was “Amateur Night,” in which the Brady kids appear on a
TV talent contest, performing “Sunshine Day” and “Keep On.”
It was always a show I
looked forward to watching. But since there were no episode guides back then, most viewers never knew exactly when it might turn up. Eventually we
figured
out it was later in the series’ run, after Tiger disappeared. After Mike’s hair
went curly. After Marcia got, um, you know.
Even with the series airing five days a
week, it still took several months to cycle through all 115
shows (there were 116 episodes, but the Christmas show rarely aired in
syndication).
So I had one chance about
every six months to catch "Amateur Night." And contrary to what some readers of
this blog may believe, I did occasionally have something else to do besides
watch TV – then and now. But on those lucky rare afternoons when I was in front of
the Sony Trinitron and that first scene began, with Jan entering the department
store to pick up a silver platter, it was an event.
And it was a fleeting one.
You watched it, there was no way to save it, and it might be a year or more
before you happened across it again.
Now, I can take Season 4 of
The Brady Bunch off the shelf,
insert disc 3 in the DVD player, and watch that show whenever the feeling strikes me. And it
feels great.
I don’t think anyone who grows
up with the Internet will look at television the same way. If you see a TV show
you like, you can immediately watch it again on your computer or an iPad.
It’s now possible to store all 116 Brady Bunch episodes on an iPhone and carry them in your pocket.
That certainly makes TV
viewing more convenient, but it also makes it less significant. If you can do
something any time you want, there’s nothing special about doing it.
I still remember when catching a rerun of a favorite show was enough to make a whole day better.
I still remember when catching a rerun of a favorite show was enough to make a whole day better.
And that’s why I will
always prefer my DVDs.