It’s a rainy day. Ahh, sweet, sweet rain. Everything that grows looks up and says, “Thank you God; we were so dirty, so thirsty.” They show their delight. Blossoms perk up joyfully; all things green gets greener; the earth sighs gratefully; the air itself breathes a musky perfume. Face it. Your cynicism doesn’t come easy on a day such as this. But then you make the mistake of giving in to a deadly addiction. You could strip and stand naked in the rain. You could paint the garage. You could read — anything. You could volunteer to help at a dozen places. You could trim your nose hair. Instead, you surrender. You plop down and pick up the remote and allow yourself to wallow with that malignant narcotic we call — TV. This is what addiction is all about. You knowingly and willingly participate in “activity” that no self–respecting robot would stomach. You shudder to realize that you devote over 10 full years of your lifetime — approximately 90,000 hours — as a sponge, sucking up (and God help you, paying for) abject drivel. Time out. You’re thinking TV is not all garbage. Okay, let’s be kind and generous. Let’s say 10% of programming has true entertainment value, artistic integrity or meaningful purpose. Multiply the dividend by the square root of X to the 5th power and divide by Y and you can feel liberated knowing you devote only 9.2 years of your precious existence lapping up broadcast swill. Intellectually, you know television is just short of worthless; yet you give it prominence in your home and dominion over your life. You worship it at first light and last waking thought. You can’t do without it. At the fitness center. In the restaurant. In the hotel room. You listen to talk shows as if celebrities and talking heads have more insight, greater brainpower and loftier opinions than your own. You realize that the dumbing down of America — culturally, morally and educationally — is largely television driven. Yet you do nothing about it. Here’s a thought. Boycott TV for one week. Tell your friends to live one measly week without it. Not one second of airtime. Tell them to tell their friends. Hold on, Clyde, this is one powerful drug you’re talking about. Imagine the pain. Imagine life without television. Nobody to hear politicians lie. Nobody to hear talking heads butcher the English language. Nobody to watch celebs bask in their self–importance. Nobody to witness second–rate programming and pathetically boring advertising. Imagine America the Beautiful without TV for 6 months. Imagine what you could do with 10 more years of life. Imagine.