Commentary: Who's In Charge Here?

It was as unexpected as it was daunting.

One hundred and fifty channels. Two separate remotes (I'm still not sure why). And a screen large enough to make even the most avid toddling "Barney" fan scared to death should the purple blob suddenly appear at the click of a button.

Don't get me wrong here. It's not that I didn't know this technology exists. But for someone who still has to get up to change the channel manually on a 13-inch TV, it was a luxury -- albeit a somewhat confusing one -- to be sitting on a couch armed with a remote in each hand. I felt like John Wayne waiting for the saloon doors to open so I could blow away Bad Bart or some other villain. Instead, every time I pulled the trigger, another episode of "My Mother the Car" or "Mister Ed" seemed to appear. Apparently retro bad television is popular at this particular juncture in our history.

At first, having all-day access to this is indeed both pleasurable and powerful, much like the first time you log on to the Internet. The world, it appears, is at your fingertips.

With just a click of a button you can be just about anywhere you want to be and see just about anything you want to see. A dangerous mix of adrenaline and testosterone floods your body, making you believe you're in charge.

You are the power.

Whatever you want, it's yours. Just point and click.

You are a hormonal nightmare waiting to explode. You become one with the television. It is you and you are it -- a prospect which would have greatly interested both Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud, by the way.

Then you crash. An ice storm knocks out the power. The blue haze of the television screen is replaced by sudden darkness and an eerie silence. You click with one hand, then the other. But nothing happens. You try to get up, but you've been sitting for so long your body has been sucked into the couch.

Slowly, your hormone levels subside. You realize the power was just an illusion. You weren't really in charge and you weren't really getting whatever you wanted. You feel drained, but you haven't done anything. The couch releases its grip on you, but you don't get up. You don't quite know what to do. Without the ability to point and click you've lost your ability to decide, control and maneuver your way through the evening.

Or have you?

As individuals, and as a society, many of us have allowed technology to take over and exert far greater control than it deserves. Our lives are often more connected to the television schedule or Internet guide than they are to our families, neighbors, communities or churches.

This is not to say television and the Internet lack value and purpose. Television at its best has enormous power to entertain and to stimulate both mind and emotions. So too, does the Internet. But with each, more is usually less -- less entertainment, less stimulation and certainly less social interaction.

At issue here is not what we're doing when our evenings are filled with channel surfing or surfing the Internet. It's what we're not doing.

Turn them off for a week and find out.