I grew up in the backwoods (literally) of Connecticut (so a sort of well educated backwoods). My grandmother and aunts had goats. We had chickens. We all had dogs and cats that wondered around at will and in the summer, my house was surrounded by trees so thick you couldn't see anything but green when you looked out the windows. But when I was very young, I guess we didn't look out the windows much at all. Mostly, I guess, we just sat in our basement and watched TV. My dad in a fit of passion (I can so relate to him), literally picked up the TV and threw it out the door. He did not, it turns out, like how we didn't do anything but watch the BOOB TUBE as he called it. Did this totally stop us? I'm afraid not. This meant we all went down to our grandmother's as a result on Friday nights to watch Fantasy Island and Dukes of Hazard and The Hulk. We all squished on the two recliners and sprawled on the floor to watch her tiny 13" TV with at best mon