The first TV I ever saw was in Buenos Aires around 1954. It
was in the house of Susan Stone (a classmate of mine from the American Grammar
School) whose father was the General Manager for General Motors Argentina. For
reasons that I have never understood since I was an awkward 13 year-old boy
Susan would send her father’s chauffeur in the Cadillac to pick me up so we could
play in her vast estate.
One day she brought me inside and that’s when I saw my
first TV broadcast. I was mesmerized by it even though what I was seeing was a
documentary on oil derricks.
It was not until we moved to Mexico City in 1955 that we had
our first TV (a Zenith) and our first telephone. My cousin Dolores would come
and visit and we would sit to watch our favourite program which was BostonBlackie. I remember vividly that we would watch while drinking very cold Delaware
Punch. We had no straws so we used long uncooked macaroni to sip our drink.
It was in 2003 that I photographed Salem in her house watching TV. I decided that the best vantage point was from behind the TV. This particular image is the only one that I can show here.