OK, I admit it. I am a News Junkie. They say admitting you have a problem is the first step down the road to recovery. For most of my life, I've tried to hide my addiction. Expressing my views on current events, national news, international news, politics, macro economics, Wall Street, local news and history is something I've always tried to avoid. I shared my views only to my closest friends, and family. I've always had a deep respect for people that believe differently than I do. Maybe I've been a bit too deferential. The deferential attitude that I've had, has usually kept me deep in the closet. Please bare with me as I take my first few steps out.
I feel I must be honest and say how my addiction started. When I was very young, my family had only one television. Can you believe that? How's a family suppose to survive with just one TV? As it turns out, most families in the seventies had only one TV. Those families lucky enough to have a color TV were the envy of the block. What does having only one TV have to do with my early addiction? Well, let me tell you. When my brothers and I came home from school, my mother would be busy in the kitchen. We had the TV all to ourselves. We watched cartoons or went out to play with the other kids on the block from the time we got home until my mom said it was time to eat. We were in kid heaven. Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, maybe the Three Stooges, what more could a kid ask for. After we ate though... that was another story. My parents wanted to watch what they wanted. And what did my parents want to watch? Jerry Dunphy and the Big News on channel 2. Oh the boredom. Oh the shear torture of having to watch the news. My brother and I would sit quietly for a couple of seconds before we'd start to fidget, poke, prod, and joke at each other until my dad would give us a harsh scolding. So we'd sit there, and every now and then a word or two, through multiple repetition, would sink into my mind. Vietnam, Watergate. Vietnam, Watergate.
Each time a story or video on Vietnam would come on, I would sit there and listen to the body counts and casualty figures and hope it meant that we were winning. I really didn't connect these cold numbers to human lives when I was a kid. I know I shouldn't, but I still feel a touch of guilt about that today.
Watergate is where my addiction really began though. I kept hearing about it over and over again. Finally one day I passed by the newspaper that was on the dining room table and caught yet another headline about Watergate. OK, OK, I finally gave in, what's a Watergate? I picked up the paper and started reading. I was really too young to be reading a newspaper written for adults, so I had to ask my mom about the meaning of many words, but with her help I was able to understand what Watergate was (a hotel in Washington D.C., see photo) and President Nixon's role in the burglaries that took place at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate Office complex, in 1972. Reading a headline or two from the newspaper became a regular morning ritual that I continue to this day. You can see that it was not my fault. My parents are to blame for this addiction I have.
I shouldn't blame them though. It would be so easy to blame my parents for my current addiction, but if I am to recover from it, I must take responsibility...
Each time a story or video on Vietnam would come on, I would sit there and listen to the body counts and casualty figures and hope it meant that we were winning. I really didn't connect these cold numbers to human lives when I was a kid. I know I shouldn't, but I still feel a touch of guilt about that today.
Watergate is where my addiction really began though. I kept hearing about it over and over again. Finally one day I passed by the newspaper that was on the dining room table and caught yet another headline about Watergate. OK, OK, I finally gave in, what's a Watergate? I picked up the paper and started reading. I was really too young to be reading a newspaper written for adults, so I had to ask my mom about the meaning of many words, but with her help I was able to understand what Watergate was (a hotel in Washington D.C., see photo) and President Nixon's role in the burglaries that took place at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate Office complex, in 1972. Reading a headline or two from the newspaper became a regular morning ritual that I continue to this day. You can see that it was not my fault. My parents are to blame for this addiction I have.I shouldn't blame them though. It would be so easy to blame my parents for my current addiction, but if I am to recover from it, I must take responsibility...
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