Talking to the TV

In his weekly column "Max's Column" for TBmagazine, Maxim Behar talks about the difficulties and changes in the Bulgarian economy and business and the only force that counts - experience.

Strange, but it is an undeniable fact. I have travelled almost all over the world, probably even several times, but I have never, anywhere, met people who talk to TVs. What we otherwise observe in Bulgaria all the time and everywhere.

You're having your coffee quietly in the kitchen, and in the living room your wife orders, "Yes, he'll tell me! Look what you look like, your scarecrow! I remember you praying for a beer to be given to you on credit at the neighbourhood store! Now you've put on a blazer and a tie and think yourself very smart...!"

In the evening the roles are reversed - the man argues with another football commentator and somewhere between the third and fourth beer he is ready to fight with the TV, if only to show that he understands more than football and knows who, how to score the goals...

But the drama is early in the morning when the politicians speak. I've seen all sorts of scenes full of emotion and flowery phrases. Opinions from "Hosanna" to "Crucify him." Even whole stories that excited viewers tell the unhearing hosts. But so passionately do they do it that they expect at any moment the host to come off the screen and ask for coffee too, or at least a glass of cold water to pour over the arguer's head.

That’s unique, but there's nothing wrong with that. Because it means that there are no lonely people. There is always someone to talk to.