TVs are everywhere.

Everyone is selling TVs, everyone are watching TVs, and everywhere, a TV is right smack dab in my face. And everywhere, I’m sick of it.

I waited patiently in the checkout lane at Meijer, my eyes drifting across the aisles, searching for entertainment. They were drawn in by brassy voices and grainy colors emanating from a TV just above the conveyor belt, next to the Tic-Tacs.

Are you kidding me? Now, rather than let me mull over how I already spent too much money at the grocery store, you’re going to ask me to buy more things I don’t need?

I watched an ad for 10 bags of tortilla chips for $10. “Perfect for nachos, your favorite salsa recipe…” they went on. Something strange happened, however.

Rather than huff out my usual scoff at annoying advertising ploys, I cocked my head at the TV. They kind of had a point. “That’s a lot of nachos,” I thought to myself, “$10 isn’t a lot for so many nachos … I like nachos.”

And what about the TVs on public buses? Perhaps the city’s found a new sense of humor, but rather than fill this type of programming with games, word puzzles, things to keep you from going berserk while you’re wedged between Smelly Sally and Homeless Harry, they like to tell you what the weather’s like.

Gee, you’re on a bus, lined completely with windows, your own personal gate to the world of weather. It’s like informing someone of the cold when you pass them on Annie Glidden. “Hey, weather’s going to be disgusting all day today, just so ya know! Talk to you later, buddy!”

What is this sudden fixation with TVs? Or maybe we just built up our anxiety for TVs since they popped onto the market in the 1950s.

Since you can buy a TV like you once bought a pack of pens, we’ve decided to treat ourselves and install a TV on every empty, flat surface.

“Honey, I’m going to buy that 50-inch plasma TV today.” “That sounds nice, dear, but don’t we have a 50-inch upstairs already?” “Ehh, I was thinking more for that flat, empty wall between the bathroom and the linen closet.”

TVs have adopted their new colossal personality to give America’s silver screens a run for their money. And why? Because we’re lazy. We like knowing the luxury of American cinema now resides in our very own living rooms.

It’s kind of like getting ice buckets to stash cool beer on the coffee table. Sure, eliminate the one step in your night of drinkity-treats that’s actually good for you: getting up, and walking to the fridge.

I’m merely waiting now for the day when some random sales-guy jumps out at me from behind the deli and says, “Hey, you! This week only, buy a 72-inch plasma TV and get a free pound of ham!”

What they should do is package the TVs with those ab crunchy-machines that workout your abs while you create an imprint of your butt on the sofa.

And package up all that tackiness into one trite box. At least they’d save on shipping.