44 Days to TV Free

In yesterday's mail was a letter from Time Warner Cable reminding me that my two-year contract with them would soon be coming to an end. The letter thanked me for being such a valued customer. As an expression of gratitude, they were offering another two-year contract with a Price Lock Guarantee of only $15 per month more than I am currently paying!

Hmmm.

I've been waiting for the end of my interminable contract with Big Brother since the first day the cable was installed. I was bold, brash, and temporarily insane when I decided to spend nearly $150 a month for cable/DVR, internet and a land line. But between living on a sailboat for three years and staying married to an extreme minimalist for another five, I hadn't had cable since the last millenium. I was Time Warner's dream customer.

The letter's arrival spurred me into contemplation. For the eight years I did without TV, I never felt like I was missing anything. For the two years that I've had unlimited, on demand access to everything from "Mad Men" to "Dancing With the Stars," I've felt like I'm missing out on the world.

I've spent too much time watching TV the same way I've consumed too many calories, and I'm convinced they are inexorably linked. I would exercise more if I didn't watch so much television. I would eat less. I would write more, get out more, be more social, and spend more time engaged in healthful relaxation like yoga or meditation if only I could keep myself from vegging out in front of that giant, seductive flat screen.

But a dieter I am not. Just like I can't resist junk food if it's within reach, I'm routinely unsuccessful at just not turning the television on. And "I'll only have one fun-size Snickers after my healthy supper of quinoa and bok choi" works about as well as "I'll just watch one episode of Law and Order." How many evenings have started with last night's offerings on the DVR and an optimistic "As soon as Top Chef's over, I'll hit the gym" - only to find me in the exact same spot, untold hours later, scrolling through HD Showcase On Demand like a blackout drunk at the hotel room's minibar?

And so, Time Warner's correspondence prodded me into action. "I'll just cancel it all!" I exclaimed. "I don't need TV!" I can change my mobile number to 803 and make it my primary phone. I'll either access the Internet via wireless through a neighbor's unsecure network or - better yet - in the new socially outgoing version of me - I'll spend more time in trendy wifi hotspots with my laptop and a sugarfree caramel macchiato!

Unfortunately, it was already after hours when I came to these conclusions, so I had to wait until morning to take action.

By then, it was a slightly watered down course - maybe I'd keep it, if only it were cheaper. First, I called DirecTV and negotiated a $90 package including DVR. Before committing, I called Time Warner to give them one last chance. "I just received the Price Lock Guarantee letter," I told Ernest, my TWC representative. "I'm very unhappy." Ernest, like a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend accustomed to being dumped, did the best he could. That turned out to involve taking away my DVR and long distance service and only reducing the rate to $118 plus tax. "That's not gonna work for me, Ernest," I told him. "We'll just have to call it quits."

I hung up the phone and laughed maniacally. "I'm free!" I shouted. "I'm out from under!" I felt like Tommy Gavin on "Rescue Me," triumphantly dumping the Scotch and vodka down the drain. I know that between 12 and 18 hours after the cable is cut off on August 28, I'm liable to be rocked by a powerful, debilitating withdrawal. But for now, I feel insanely, joyfully, blissfully free.

And I do have 44 days to decide. Forty-four days to think about everything I'll be missing. The Emmy Awards, for starters. The new season of 30 Rock. Sons of Anarchy, the aforementioned Mad Men, plus all the stuff I never admit to watching and all the networks' brand new offerings. I'll be out of the loop. I won't know what people are talking about.

But I'll be free.

Can I do it? Can I quit cold turkey? And if I do, will my life really be as different as I think?