Sep 4, 2014 3 min read

All I wanted was to watch a bit of “The Waltons” Labor Day marathon.

I love the show and its warm, mountainy, country approach to storytelling. It’s on constantly around dinnertime, and I usually watch while I’m cooking so I can catch up with John Boy and his wholesome clan. I’d be embarrassed to admit I like the show, but I can’t be the only one because Hallmark Channel plays, like, four shows back-to-back every weekday. In the span of a week, I can watch Mary Ellen go from tomboy in overalls to a bossy priss in a nurse’s cap.

But I missed the marathon because we fell for the TV commercials promising if we switch from Comcast to another provider, we will save money, get better channels and a better picture while also losing weight and being a generally happier person.

And so we went for it.

Every inch of the new provider’s screen was littered with colorful blocks and cubes and buttons and words, words, words! It looked like the floor of a preschool classroom after playtime.

Confused, I never did join the Walton family that first day. After scrolling through, like 800 channels, I couldn’t find them, and so I gave up.

That night I set out to find the local news. I punched in some numbers that I thought might get me something, and what did I see? A naked woman. Yes, full top-half frontal nudity, and she wasn’t just on her way into the shower. I’d landed on a softcore porn movie which, I promise you, I had not tried to purchase. Nor did we subscribe to a package that would include such nonsense.

(Yes, I lingered there for a moment. It has been a very long time since I’ve seen what we used to call “dirty movies,” and let me tell you, they are as stupid as ever.)

Not wanting the household youngsters, or anyone else, to happen upon this sort of thing, I set up the parental controls, going for the option that would lock out anything rated for those above age 13. This, I thought, might give access to all but the most violent and sexy movies.

The next evening, as I tried to watch a movie, I found that everything more adult than those titles containing the words princesses, rainbows, unicorns, Muppets or Frozen were frozen out of the screen. My family was now safe from anything not produced by Disney.

Just opt out of the parental controls, you say? Do you know how many different passwords I have to remember? Emails, online banking, credit cards, phone, garage door opener. I tried them all, and none of them would let me watch “Fargo.” The next night, I finally remembered the correct one; I’m pretty sure I’ve opted to block out only the really bad stuff from now on.

I still have trouble weeding through all the options on the screen, though, and I’m missing stuff.

Right when we made the switch, the “Waltons” timeline was at a crucial spot, with Mary Ellen’s husband going off to war and Olivia contracting tuberculosis.

And what about John Boy’s novel? Will it be published? I’ll try to catch up, but this new service won’t make it easy.

Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.