by Nadia Sonriente

On my recent visit to the Recreation Complex, I was shocked to see a large plasma television performing in the hallway before new, leathery sofas.

Plasma screens are not exactly cheap, and it was my understanding that the City, particularly the Complex, is severely strapped for cash lately and looking forward to even less cash this year.

Besides, isn’t the Complex entirely dedicated to the culture of sport, fitness, and the arts? Since when did couch-potato-ing become a designated sport?

I understand that being a hockey dad or mom, or, for that matter, a young hockey player, involves many hours of patient waiting and hanging around. One has to credit hockey families full marks for participation, perseverance, and endurance. On asking about the TV, I was given to understand that it was bought to alleviate their suffering.

Excuse me? Have we forgotten how to read? Play games? Socialise? If we can’t offer the longsuffering public the opportunity of pumping iron while waiting, is it too much to ask that participants prepare for hours of hanging around by bringing along a book, a deck of cards, and a set of good manners?

Anyone who’s kept up with the research on the effects of TV and computers on people, especially kids, knows that (1) the human brain can’t NOT watch TV, because that’s the way our vision is wired, (2) anything more than about half an hour a day is bad for your health, and (3) it’s a huge contributor to ADHD and learning disabilities, worst of all for the little kids. That’s before any discussion of the content of TV, which, if you’ve been away from it awhile, you realise is mostly cultural poison, anyway.

I’ve heard that plasma screens have an enormous carbon footprint, too. Did we citizens buy some carbon credits to make up for it?

When do we get an accounting for this obscene expenditure, City Council? Wouldn’t it have been cheaper to install a book exchange, some cards, and table games? Maybe even a ping-pong or shuffleboard?

That TV’s message goes like this: “Here’s a building full of healthful, positive activities, kids—but I’m the sweet poison pill that makes the medicine go down.”

The street sign at the turn-off to the Rec says “Complex Way”. Yeah…I’ll say!