The Television-Pantry Parallel

It's all crap! I scan through the channels only to be greeted by chip-clipped snack bags, their partially consumed contents becoming more stale with time. I was once tempted to watch them and in each case all I found was the usual tasteless nosh: lots of seasoning and no substance. With the remote in hand I switch to the next. And the next. And the next. The sight of each one instantly reminds me how bad or how bland they were. Is there anything good here? Anything I can sink my teeth into without tasting the bitter or bilious? Am I always to be left with a bad taste in my mouth, folding down the top of the bag and moving on to something else? Is it all insipid, banal, unsavory and inane? It's the same whether I go up or go down. Wait! What luck! Here is something I can take in and use. I can learn. I can grow. But I enjoy it all alone. The kids won't join me because it is good for them. How long before they recognize the stealthily encroaching crap that surrounds them? How long before they realize they are missing what they need? And when they stand at the open pantry door and complain, "There's nothing to eat," will they look at me funny when I answer, "Frontline is on."