The Nielsen Survey people sent us an envelope with $1 in it. For this princely sum, we were asked to log our viewing habits for weeks and report back to them.
In case you haven’t heard of them, Nielsen Surveys, pioneered in the 1920s, use scientific random sampling to measure media habits. It is how network television ratings are determined.
This, in turn, is what allows networks to cancel any decent programming we have ever enjoyed in favor of one more reality show. In the olden days of the 1900s, ratings were very important.
We only had three channels, and they fought bitterly for our viewing habits. Television shows had rabid fan followings. Painfully, we had to wait each week for new episodes and then they took summers off and ran reruns. We had to wait for episodes, usually after a late spring cliff-hanger (who shot J.R. nearly derailed an entire summer as fans hotly debated while waiting), but we knew a new season would be back in the fall.
Now with streaming, you can easily wait a year or more before a new season is available. I simply do not have the attention span for that. I’m good for three months, tops. I can absolutely LOVE a program, and if it needs 12 to 18 months between seasons, I simply forget it exists.
I recently wrote about growing up Generation X in the 1970s and 1980s. That resonated with readers who reached out to share their own memories with me. We had a good time discussing what being “from the 1900s” was like. There are aspects of ancient times that are now lost to civilization. It is up to us to keep the memory alive.
In the old days, if you were looking for a specific song, you had options. You could buy the whole 8-track/album/cassette tape/CD when it arrived at the mall record store, or, if you had a tight budget — such as a 12-year-old’s allowance — you’d try to tape it when it comes on the radio. This required the reflexes of a Ninja. We had to listen to the radio and hit record when the DJ finally quit talking over the song. We would spend hours tuned in to America’s Top 40 just to get the latest hits on our “mix tape.”
With music streaming services, we can create an entire play list of every song we have ever even thought about liking — and in seconds no less. It’s comforting to know I can get my ears on “Boogie Shoes” at a moment’s notice. Need to hear “Disco Duck?” Got it!
Speaking of unlimited modern phone service, do you remember paying for calling long distance? At some point calls were cheaper after 8 p.m. on Sundays so we would wait to call our grandparents who lived 40 minutes away but may as well have lived across the country as far as Ma Bell was concerned. Once we called, we would talk pretty fast because even at reduced rates, those calls could really add up.
There was also nothing even remotely mobile about our phones. As teenagers, we used a pay phone to call parents for a ride or permission to stay out later. Pay phones were plentiful. Learning to make a collect call and telling the operator that “mom-I’m-ready-come-pick-me-up” was calling to save a quarter was an art form. More chilling, there was no texting. We had to use our VOICES. Calling a friend was fraught with danger. You might have to talk to a parent, or worse, older sibling. It was terrifying.
No saved numbers. We had to make an effort to remember telephone numbers. My first phone number? Yes. Friends’ numbers from 7th-12th grades? Got em! Remember a number today? What am I, Albert Einstein?
Nowadays I have the world at my fingertips, almost literally. Music. Movies. Tracking loved ones like I’m a detective hot on the trail of “The Fugitive.”
What this comes back around to is that I’m probably not Nielsen material. Obviously, I cannot in good conscience take the Nielsen cash. I rarely if ever watch network television. I don’t think “scrolling Pinterest” and “checking Facebook” reflect the viewership habit they were hoping for.
(Kymberly Foster Seabolt welcomes comments in care of FosterSeabolt@gmail.com; P.O. Box 38, Salem, Ohio 44460; or KymberlyFosterSeabolt.com.)
