Some of us are old enough to remember when TVs needed to have antennas. This was long before cable of course, and long before roof dishes.
If you couldn’t afford to put an antenna on your roof ,then you had to make do with a little antenna on the top of your television set. These were called “rabbit ears,” and they didn’t work very well.
So the more affluent among us installed antennas on our roofs. Some of them were taller than others. If you had a really tall antenna on your roof, then that was a sign of wealth.
Even better, some rich people installed antennas on their lawns, atop extremely high ladder-like towers. These silver behemoths were the tallest things in town, especially if the town was very small, like my Texas village.
We kids were always dealing with the not-so-hidden injuries of social class, and among these was the height of our families’ antennas. My family had a fairly short antenna, so I grew envious of kids from families with tall ones. Thus did “antenna envy” come to dominate American social relationships.
I recall arguing with my little buddies that, while my antenna was shorter than theirs, mine had a special feature, which was its ability to carry tree sap in the spring. No one believed me.
Now I brag about how many cable channels I can get, though I hardly watch any of them.
This is Tom McBride, and that’s my Perspective.
