I've met the enemy

We’re pretty certain at my house that as far as Clementine is concerned, TV is the devil (my relationship with TV is another story, as I’m experiencing the joys that Tivo can bring to your life and I’m not ashamed of my serious addictions to Project Runway and Heroes). Because she is in day care all day (and exposed to heaven knows what), I just can’t get behind the few precious hours we have with her being spent in front of the idiot box being sucked into consumer culture. My sister has a different approach to her kids’ relationship with TV, and I applaud her. I know if I was home all day with C I’d probably be singing a different song if Calliou bought me a little extra blogging time. Do what you will with your kids and I respect it—I’m just not playing that game in the Punk Rock House.

Truth be told, it’s not just the advertising, the giant mechanism that is TV, the propaganda or the bullshit that I object to—it’s how insipid most programming is, especially for kids. I would rather have C listen to black metal on the stereo all day long than show her five minutes of Teletubbies or that weird show where the characters are all people’s painted hands. I have heard horror stories from other parents about the sick fascination their children have with all things Elmo, and that’s just not for us, thank you very much.

Despite all these objections, I recently recorded The Doodlebops because a friend of mine kept telling me how much it reminded her of me. So I pose this question to the Internet at large: what’s worse…that The Doodlebops exist at all, or that someone who knows me thinks I would enjoy it? Maybe she knew I would enjoy mocking them? Or maybe because she knew in my life I’ve dyed my hair all the colors that the Doodlebops sport? OK, maybe because I like music and dream of fronting a great punk mama band there’s a connection, but even that’s a stretch. I mean, look at them...they don't even have real hands...they aren't even playinig their own music...they're worse than Milli Vanilli...


And if that’s not bad enough, when I watched the 11 minutes I could stand, Clementine stood 1 foot in front of the TV, totally and utterly transfixed. I haven’t seen her focus on anything for that long ever, not even her favorite bedtime books. She wasn’t just passively watching either—she danced, she swooped, she frolicked, and when Dee Dee Doodlebop started talking about her fabulous pink hair, Clementine grabbed her own hair as if to say, “Me too, Dee Dee!” When I stopped thinking about how brilliant my little love is, I grabbed her from in front of the horror and deleted it from my Tivo forever. Why such a visceral reaction? The program was terrible, and I wanted to punch the lights of each one of the Doodlebops out repeatedly every time they said anything. As far as a review, i know that doesn't give you much, but I can't be coherent in the face of such utter crap.

I’m not trying to be one of those holier-than-thou anti-TV mamas here. But seriously…who is allowing their kids to watch this crap? And is this going to be like the Cheerios thing for me—will I resist at first but eventually become glazed-over and dependent like a zombie? Please say no. The very thought makes me shudder.