I'm Some Strange

It happened again today. Same scene. Different faces.

“How on earth do you manage,” they say to me, “How can you possibly live without it?”

Their voices always rise a notch. Shock and horror riddled is how I would describe their faces.

“Oh, really, I don't miss it at all,” I say

“How long has it been?” one practically shouts at me.

It's always like this. Every time I break the awful news. To anyone. Shouting. Disbelief. Ascending derision.

“Oh, let me see, “ I say, using all my fingers to count, “That would be eighteen years now.”

“Sweet Jesus, did you hear that there now Nellie, she said eighteen years!” Jack's face has gone purple.

“It's not natural,” Joanna says, looking at me as if she has to now reassess my sanity. Nellie nods her agreement. Vehemently.

“What do you talk about without it, what do you do, like?” Jack asks belligerently.

“Well,” I say, carefully, "Other things like books. And movies. And art. And knitting. And stories. And games. And walks. And singing. And...”

“That sounds like an awful lot of work,” says Joanne, “I'd prefer to have a good rest with it rather than have to do all that.”

“But,” I say, “ That's how people behaved not too long ago, that's how they would fill up an evening.”

“Oh that wouldn't be for us now at all,” says Jack, “That would be going right backwards at life, don't you agree?” and he looks around at the nodding faces.

“You're some strange,” Nellie sums up,”I've never known anyone ever to give up T.V.”