Memoirs of an Amnesiac

According to a local research, children in the younger years (say like 4 years old and below) who are frequently exposed to TV at such ages are likely to develop speech problems. I don't know whether this research is conclusive and comprehensive for this matter but I do agree that exposing oneself to the tube especially when one has not formed judgment faculties in the brain (being immature and young with a sponge-like brain) may hold true. The brain is such a complex organ that anything (as in anything) could happen.

I remember growing up with a 14-inch Phillips CRT TV with black and white resolution. That was the vogue then. LED TVs were not in every house's vocabulary. My father placed it inside a makeshift box which I could imagine would be his own creative version of a furniture where appliances such as a TV could be safely kept from the harsh elements of rain and humidity. The programs were all delayed. The most one could ever make up for cartoons were from Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse and Friends. The word "LIVE" does not even exist. During that time, we were one of those lucky ones in the neighborhood who had access to a tube.

TV watching was equated to a curfew. No more TV after 9 pm, all to the dismay of our neighborhood friends who would gather like congressmen in a quorum (ready to pass or amend a law) come 5 pm every afternoon with our wooden jalousied windows as their tryst while they watched, "Tour of Duty." Back then Eat Bulaga was still in Channel 3. (That was before they reportedly had a huge strain with the channel sups in Channel 3). It was always a noon-time show (now with the exception of the Ryzza Mae Show before it). There was Kwarta o Kahon before Pera o Bayong.

Like a movie theater with screening schedules, the box where the tube is placed closes at 2 pm come summer time to pave the way for good old siesta. My father's philosophy was that, "TV watching will always have its time. Physical growth couldn't wait." In exchange for the tube, my father's abigon (local term for radio, spelling not sure) would soon have its turn. Our aural stimulus is never without stimulation as we listen to radio actors, telling exactly what they are about to do, complete with super convincing sound effects (from a door opening to water pouring incessantly from a faucet not to mention the gunfire and noisy stabbing, "Ania, dunggabon taka!" (Here, I'll stab you!)

Pre-elementary education back then consisted of going to daycare centers where kids like us would await the still-hot "lugaw" while enduring our teachers' (whom we didn't care were licensed or not) discussion at the end of the day about the noisy alphabet and Si Bantay, the dog who had a hard time barking.

We then go home, have lunch and wait for the box to open once again as we get mesmerized about black and white gory bodies thrown in battle and soldiers who wait for a chopper to pick them up, signaling the end of another episode.

I have fond memories of those times. I don't know hold old I was. Probably old enough to even begin to make sense about things. But I knew TV watching came with regulations (you know like MTRCB and their SPG ratings?). Although the box was not locked, we understand that no lock or key would deter the permission we needed to ask in order to watch it.

Something parents of this generation should seriously be concerned about.