The ledge of entertainment

 

Entertainment has come a long since the days of gladiatorial contests. When the crowds of spectators really were out for blood. Amazingly, this happened in a time without any jumbotron to relive the top plays again and again. If you missed it while chugging a goblet of wine, you had to ask your neighbor to describe the scene in gross detail. At some point, we got television. And at some point, after that, we got tired.

I now look to a different screen for joy and amusement. It’s the one between my windowpane and moderately fresh air. It’s a perspective that is always changing and always interesting. I don’t change the channel; the channel changes me. 

Here’s how it works. I open the window and like so many people before me, I stick my head halfway out of it, looking down on the cars, passersby, birds and all the rest. There’s risk inherent to this, which is why I specified “halfway.” There is a uniform that most similarly minded folks have adopted over the years. It’s either an undershirt or no shirt at all. 

There’s no binging, unless what I just ate decides to make a cameo. There are stars, but from this angle, pretty much everyone looks the same. And that’s how I like it. Small and inconsequential. I don’t have to worry about missing something important, since the street will be there tomorrow and the day after that. It’s waiting for me, to entertain, to distract, and if it’s anything like modern TV, to bore.