In the fifties, we moved to South Dakota, and Dad bought a Magnavox TV. The signal blew hot and cold over the plains from Iowa so he instructed my mother to keep the set on. We woke each morning to a test pattern, watched through a snowy screen the denotation, the formless rising, and finally the large mushroom cloud. The process repeated itself all that hot summer.
as ordinary as Corn Flakes and Wonder Bread we were children
Only at night when Flash Gordon arrived did we huddle around the TV with our playmates. Ray guns and space wars. Finally something happened.