Faith for five dollars…and Tennessee Williams.
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I did something nearly unforgiveable, today: I cried in class. Don't worry, no one saw me. The lights were off, and most were, I'm happy to say, engrossed in the video documentary I was showing on Tennessee Williams. I counted three sleeping students, but I only heard two of them...so I let them rest. They're athletes and all, you know. I've seen this A&E video on Williams a hundred thousand and six times, but today, today, the story resonated in a deep and tragic way, wholly new to me. I suppose it's the stress, I'm saying it's the stress, but whatever it was, it touched...
When TVs were furniture.
When I was growing up, we only had three channels on TV. Four, if the weather held and the antenna was cooperative. Those precious, precious channels were 2, 4, 9, and sometimes 11. If not for the fickle, rusty antenna, I may very well have developed an unnatural kinship with the TV. Oh, that antenna...a genuine eyesore, standing as it had my whole life, like a Sentry a little above the chimney; it also served as a lightning rod, so you know, we had to decide which was more important: ABC on Channel 11 coming out of Meridian legibly, or a house on fire if we were ever...
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