All right, KCET, listen up.
I've gone along with you for years, sending in my checks, laughing at Monty Python, frowning over politics, beaming at British dramas, furrowing my brow over science programs, sitting agog over your nature programs--well now, that's what I'm writing you about, you nature programs.
I used to be silent as a river reed from the beginning to the end of those nature programs, enjoying being back in the woods, strolling by a river, stalking over the veld, out there listening to the birds, the water sounds, the silence. Oh, it was lovely, those half+hours.
No more. Yes, the birds, the bees, the animals are there, but so is the music. It was bad enough having your outdoor reverie broken into from time to time by the voice, however unctuously moderated, of the alligator's sleeping in the sun or the great blue heron is resting on his nest, we can't listen to the wind in the grass or feel the silence at the bottom of the coral reef--no, we have to have music, idiotic music. The hawk cannot fly without flutes flying with him; the trudge of the turtle over the sand bank has to be accompanied by a bumbling of bassoons; the South American hummingbirds must drink to the best of marimbas and xylophones.