Remember a few years ago when everyone had to get a digital TV converter box if they still wanted to get over-the-air local television, like CBS or ABC? There was a big panic and kerfuffle as people fought over boxes like 1983 Cabbage Patch dolls. Riots occurred in the streets; mothers wept; children were sold into slavery in exchange for a Roku box . . .

No? That’s not what happened? I wouldn’t actually know, because my house is located in a black hole that no digital television signals can penetrate. I have been unable to watch local television or even the news as it airs since I moved off of Block Island over ten years ago. And I’ll admit it: it’s kind of nice.

We’re not total Neanderthals. We had satellite TV until the trees around the house grew so tall that we could no longer get signals. We scrapped the dish, signed up for Netflix streaming, and called it a day.

Our lives changed for the better. Netflix, you see, allows for on-demand viewing, so you can binge-watch, say, all eleven seasons of M*A*S*H in one weekend. I can stream Netflix on the iPad, so I could watch old episodes of Forensic Files while scrubbing the toilet. If the power went out, I could watch old episodes of Forensic Files while heating up dinner over a Sternocan. On any given weekend, you’d find me folding laundry, old episodes of Forensic Files looping from the iPad propped up on top of the dryer. Life without regular television isn’t so bad.

There are more bonuses, too. I can’t watch the news, so I never get worked up over politics or people behaving badly. If I can’t see or hear you, Donald Trump, I don’t have to waste precious energy hating you. I plan on buying a copy of Time magazine when the election gets closer to learn about the candidates before voting. Doesn’t that sound lovely? No commercials, no CNN, no Fox News. It’s a peaceful life I lead.

I will admit that there are a couple of television shows I can’t live without. One of them, Downton Abbey, is available for free online at PBS.org the day after the newest episode airs. For the others, God created the miracle known as the iTunes Season Pass, for He is a generous God. Sure, I have to pay $20 a season to watch The Walking Dead and Survivor, but again, this still beats rolling over a CD every month just to pay the cable bill. Plus, no commercials!

Some of my friends would say that because of my lack of regular television, I am alarmingly uninformed regarding current events. This may be true. But my blood pressure was 118/60 the last time I went for a physical. Did I miss a wildfire out in California that I can do nothing to stop, or the GOP debate? I sure did, and that’s just fine with me. I’m not completely uninformed, however. I do read the Block Island Times online on a regular basis. I’m well aware that Mark’s Beachcomber Hair Design is seeing an influx of windblown hair tragedies this week.

I feel for the windblown ladies—I really do. But life is short. And it’s just a little sweeter when I don’t have the weight of the world blasting at me from the television.

Another year has passed, and you're probably wondering how my 2013 was. Wonder no more: Here are my highlights from the past year!

January: January 23rd came and went without any injuries to my knees. Since it was January 23, 2011, that I fell while ice skating and tore my MCL and chipped my knee cap, I tend to dread this date now. Also, I turned 40 this month. My family and friends plied me with lots of chocolate cake, so it wasn't so bad.

February: This was the month that I failed miserably at my attempt to follow the Atkins Diet in what will forever be known as "The Great Chocolate Mousse Cake Intervention." After recovering from my sugar withdrawal, I decided it would be healthier and safer for all involved if I ditched the diet and just bought bigger pants.

March: A low point in my year. Yes, I ate chocolate cake on my sister's birthday, but I had a sinus infection for most of the month. This was the month when I discovered home remedies for illness don't work that well. Also, if you chug apple cider vinegar, it will make you vomit.

April: This was the month we filed our taxes. Also, we realized we could no longer afford chocolate cake. I thought March was bad? Hah!

May: My addiction to Downton Abbey began in May. My mother and sister forced me to start watching this series (by mentioning that it was good) and my life was changed forever. Side effects have included talking in a mangled British accent and dressing like the Dowager Countess. Withdrawal symptoms can be easily managed by re-watching seasons over and over again on Netflix.

June: This month, I wrote an introspective letter to my teenage self. Highlights: I still love Duran Duran, and I have turned into my mother.

July: I went to see Stephen King at the Bushnell. He failed to acknowledge my existence. Hack.

August: This month, I listed the top ten sexiest actors ever. People universally hailed my list as "shallow" and "ridiculous."

September: Jason and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary by watching Sharknado and eating chocolate cake. Mmm, cake.

October: My book, Secret Things, came out this month. Hooray! This enabled me to brag that I had a book out, and meant that 3/4 of my Christmas shopping list was done. Didn't get a copy of Secret Things for Christmas? When's your birthday?

November: On November 2nd, I fulfilled a lifelong dream (or at least a dream I've had since the first season of Survivor aired) and met Richard Hatch. Now, besides bragging about having a book out, I could brag about meeting Richard Hatch. Life is good.

December: With every good thing that happens (see: meeting Richard Hatch) life has to throw a few dirty snowballs at you to keep things even. I had to sit through no less than seven crappy holiday specials this month, including Santa Claus is Coming to Town (insipid), Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (wishy-washy), and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (nauseating). Also, because of all the cookies, there was no chocolate cake. But at least I got to meet Richard Hatch. 

Here's hoping for a fabulous 2014! And more Richard Hatch!

I used to have a life. I'd answer phone calls, reply to texts when they came in, and surf Facebook to read updates on my friends' antics. Not anymore - not since my mother took me Downton.
I had no interest in watching Downton Abbey. It seemed like everyone was doing it, and I hate to do what everyone else does. I ignored my friends' comments about how wonderful it was and even poo-poohed the selling point that Maggie Smith was in it. For these mistakes, I now hang my head in shame.
It was over coffee at my parents' house that my mother mentioned she'd picked up Season One ofDownton Abbey at the library on my sister's recommendation. Mom finished that first season in 24 hours. I've known my mother all my life, and she doesn't commit to that kind of show easily, particularly if it doesn't star Andy Griffith or Dick Van Dyke. I was intrigued.
I checked Netflix and found they had Season One on streaming. My life changed forever.
Jason didn't understand why I didn't want to make dinner or clean the house, but these things seemed trivial to me. It was more important to me to find out if Mr. Bates and Anna were ever going to be able to be together. I started talking about Mary, Edith, and Sybil like they were my own sisters (good thing my sister had gotten sucked into the show first, so we could gang up on them when we thought they were being foolish.) My thoughts took on a British accent. One day, when I was feeling particularly sad (for Branson) I called my mother, who cheered me up. I sent her a hand-written card the next day: You were so kind to cheer me up yesterday - I was terribly blue. I think anyone who really knows me knows that pre-Downton, that note would have contained 14 colorful and inappropriate words and would never have been hand-written on embossed stationery. My life had changed.
It took me about seven days to watch all three seasons. (I tried to cut out the unnecessary things in my life, like sleep, but I wound up face-planting myself on my iPad from exhaustion during an episode in Season Two, so I napped and re-watched the whole season from the beginning.) My sister, mother and I wound up video-blocking each other at the local library, all of us trying to get our hands on Season Three before the others. I started referring to my late grandmother as the Dowager Countess. Nobody in the family seemed to mind.
If you haven't watched the show yet, I'm afraid I've bored you. But you're missing out. Be a sheep. Watch the show. You'll thank me for it.
And do drop a note to let me know how you got on.