Killer Beat

I’ve watched more tennis than is healthy for me. Now we’re at the point where the best matches have been played out, and the outcomes of the finales are probably academic.

TV, eh? It can be a killer. I know it’s long been a target for the accusatory fingers of those who lay society’s ills at its doorstep. Who knows? Maybe our windows on a world that is at once, both scheduled and repeatable, will ultimately be our undoing. It struck me, today, how our viewing habits have possibly altered one aspect of our social life. Remember how it was before the VHS? If you didn’t stay in to watch it, you simply missed it, and moved on. Someone at work would enquire, “Hey, see so-and-so last night?” You’d respond with , “Nah, I was out. Good?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Now if you’re asked, “Hey, see so-and-so last night?” your response will most likely include putting fingers in ears, pulling a face, and whining, “Argh, no spoilers! I’m gonna watch on catch-up tonight.”

Hell. Makes you want to do a spot of forest bathing, doesn’t it? What? Forest bathing? Never heard of it? Ah, you probably know it better as a walk in the woods. Or, as the Japanese say, “shinrin-yoku”. Take a look here.

Oh, and before I sign off, a Facebook friend recently put out the question, “World’s greatest drummer? Opinions?”

I can think of loads, but apart from John Bonham and Ginger Baker, this one sprang to mind. Gary Powell isn't the world's greatest drummer, but he ain't half bad. Feel free to name your own candidates.

Comments

  1. TV can be a black hole, as can the internet. As can reading . . . my main addiction. Forest bathing is a good antidote. Moderation in all things, my son . . . including moderation.

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