Djelloul Marbrook

Out of the mouths of babes and gaffers: We were sitting watching TV one sleepless night when I asked my wife, Is there anything lighter than the news we could watch? I meant some episodic repeat, but we broke into laughter before she could answer. No, there was nothing lighter than the news, not even American Idol.

In fact, I see and hear more substance in Law & Order repeats than I get in the news. I learn more about the world watching baseball. The Discovery Channel is more enlightening. The History Channel is deeper. French movies on IFC, indies on Sundance—yeah, they help me understand the human condition more than the news.

I sometimes get half through a repeat episode before I remember I’ve seen it, but I know I’ve seen the news before I turn on the TV.

I grew up without television. I didn’t have a TV set in my home until I was in my late twenties and out of the Navy. I bought my first set from the Salvation Army in Providence, Rhode Island. Under certain conditions the rabbit ears, a twisted hanger, could pick up three stations.

I listened to radio when I was in high school. I especially remember Gabriel Heatter. “Ah, my friends,” he’d say, “there’s good news tonight.” I liked him, but I worshipped Walter Lippmann whose elegant prose graced the The New York Herald Tribune. Someday, I thought, I’ll write a sentence half as good as one of his. I never did. Then there was Walter Winchell: “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. America, and all the ships at sea,” he’d begin.

Something about television has never been as real to me as radio, and something about radio has never been as reassuring as The Herald Tribune. The death of The Herald Tribune was my first inkling that I too might die and that nothing is quite what it seems to be. It was one of my first great disillusionments.

I have never grown as attached to actors’ faces as I was to William Conrad’s voice when he played Marshall Matt Dillon on radio. Given the authority of that voice, you might just bet that the planets would stay in their orbits. I loved Orson Welles’ voice, too, but I’m not sure I trusted it. —DM