THE SEVENTH CIRCLE OF HELL

Home Sick: The addictive allure of Home and Garden Television. (Joshua Green, July/August 2003, Washington Monthly)

For the uninitiated, HGTV is one of those niche cable stations we all heard so much about back in the early '90s that sounded preposterous at the time--who'd watch round-the-clock gardening, remodeling, and house-hunting tips?--but seems perfectly reasonable today alongside the dozens of specialty channels devoted to cooking, pets, sci-fi, soaps, books, and--on my cable system--one click below the NASA channel, which on weekends broadcasts continuous footage of the earth rotating. (Really.) Since its 1994 launch, HGTV has grown from a tiny startup to a cable colossus that reaches nearly 80 million households in the United States alone, broadcasts its programs to viewers as far away as Latvia and Brunei, and is even available to U.S. service personnel in 175 countries and on board Navy ships. The idea of rugged naval aviators, fresh from sorties over Iraq or Afghanistan, choosing to unwind before Home and Garden Television's design and decorating tips is testament to the strange power this channel holds over its viewers.

At first blush, HGTV is a benign--even an edifying--form of entertainment that's centered on a can-do ethos for the current or expectant homeowner. Instead of patrician decorating tips, HGTV shows like "Weekend Warriors'' champion a Calvinist work ethic in which determined homeowners charge headlong into demanding-but-reasonably-priced projects that typically leave them spent, but never broke, and with a spectacular new veranda or stunning hardwood floors to show for their efforts. There are shows about improving your home's appearance ("Curb Appeal''), tending to your home's yard ("Landscapers' Challenge''), decorating your home cheaply ("Design on a Dime'') or even more cheaply ("Designing Cents''), home-centric extreme-sports knockoffs ("inter Gardener,'' 'Extreme Homes'') and others, like "Help Around the House,'' that extol the life-enhancing practicalities of previously mundane tasks like caulking or grout work.

Many HGTV shows feature a subtle, battle-of-the-sexes leitmotif that adds to the intrigue, while reinforcing and pandering to its audience's prejudices in a way that surely boosts viewership. On the popular "Designing for the Sexes,'' most men are of the hapless variety, puzzled as to why their wife is upset over the moose head they'd like to mount over the dining room table; most women display an alarming fondness for pink chenille or French country style or doilies. Viewers therefore identify quickly, privately relieved to discover that their own situation isn't nearly as outlandish as they'd first imagined. They receive further encouragement from the show's denouement, which invariably features a designer or decorator of Christ-like patience who steps in to mollify the warring factions by curbing even the tackiest excesses and delivering a touch of class and taste that both can live with. This men-are-from-Mars-women-are-from-Venus format presents itself merely as decorating help. But the effect upon the addled participants--and viewers, too--is not unlike that of a good marriage counselor, convincing couples that any problem can be overcome. I believe it is no coincidence that HGTV is the one channel my fiancee and I can agree on. It accomplishes a feat previously thought to be impossible, bridging the chasm between "Oprah'' and "SportsCenter.''

Most men, on the other hand, who are trapped in marriages to HGTV addicts are secretly praying for nail-gun accidents during the shows, just to break the soul-crushing tedium. Posted by Orrin Judd at July 1, 2003 5:18 PM