Rare is the time that I have to sit down and actually watch television, much less daytime television. When I was a kid my grandmother would sit all afternoon after doing the housework and watch her “stories” or soap operas. It was an early lesson on how much we can become a part of someone else’s life- even if it’s a fictional life. If it seems better than ours we watch to dream away the banality of our meager existence. Should our TV bestow images that seem worse than our lives, we feel lucky to be alive.

I felt pretty comfortable with my take on television.

Until the midgets started singing.

What is the deal with Maury Povich and midgets? What is his fascination (or ours) with people that are 3’6 or less? How does the production meeting go? “Lets get midgets to display their talent, like singing or telling jokes and dancing in Maury’s office.” In the last year MOPO has done more shows on people that are vertically challenged than anyone on the tube has. Along with his signature shows like “Are YOU the Father of my Six Children?” Complete with paternity tests live!

You know the inevitable is on the horizon.

Midgets that have fathered children and finally fess up live on Maury!

The only thing that explains Maury’s show is re-incarnation. He is either Barnum or Bailey back at it again. At the turn of the 20th century we paraded anyone that would be considered a “freak” at sideshows all over America. Just give Maury an armband, cane and hat! “Step right up folks…see the dwarf engaged to a full sized man! See the little comedienne that gets big laughs! Watch Maury baby-sit a room full of genetic unfortunates While they play hide and seek! See Maury get paid millions! Do you have a child with an unusual medical disorder? Call Maury!”

Excuse me while I get sick.

I personally know little people- none of whom would ever lower themselves (sorry!) to do what is done on national television. Shows like Maury, Ricki Lake, Jenny (I’m not responsible) Jones, and of course the top of the heap, Jerry Springer seem to be an avenue for the lowest forms of human behavior. The Gong Show looks like a National Geographic special compared to the daily serving of these victim-infested shame-a-thons.

We always hear that if we want programming to change- we should stop watching it. So maybe it’s our fault. Maybe in our vain attempts to feel better about our lives we need to watch the downtrodden, the malformed, the abused and the left-outs. Maybe it’s all right for anyone to get on TV and serve up a heapin’-helpin’ of garbage. Maybe a steady diet of garbage is one of the reasons so many people feel like life owes them something.

Every day each of us gets 86,400 seconds to call our own. To create a vision of our future as one we choose to participate in. 86,400 seconds that you cannot exchange for more or less. 86,400 seconds that does not carry over to the next day. 86,400 seconds to spend as you choose. During these seconds, cures for disease are being discovered. Children are being taught. Hope is being dished out and adversity is being overcome. Life is being created and life is ending.

And Maury has paternity suits, midgets and primordial dwarfs for your viewing pleasure.

Today you get 86,400 seconds.