Reality Check: Old TV Shows + Just Joey Un-Shackles Social Media

When is the last time you watched old-fashioned TV, the broadcast kind that doesn’t use cable or internet streaming? Brace yourself. My husband and I watch either DVDs from the library or — drumroll — antennae channels on a basic TV. We do watch free YouTube-type videos on our devices, but our old TV is too cumbersome to bother connecting to a laptop or desktop computer. Given that we both work mostly from home (click here for info on my soon-to-be-published books), the soundtrack of our household amounts to time-warp style shows, the sorts replete with commercials for pharmaceuticals, wrinkle creams, and pleas for donations.

During work breaks when we actually sit and watch, I often pull out my phone to check what IMDB has to report on “what happened to so-and-so actor,“ and whether the show was taped at a nearby Los Angeles location.

Watching episodes shot before today’s exaggerated filters and plastic surgery as IMDB shows me how real—er actors mature provides a double-dose antidote to today’s unreal definition of beauty. Pre-1990s actors looked human. Teeth could be a little crooked and somewhat faded. Men’s hairlines receded, their chests and arms were hairy, and their bodies were moderately toned. Women didn’t look like they were about to explode out of their clothes and their bodies could be shapely without matching Dolly Parton’s measurements.

As for stunts, those on shows like the original 1970s Emergency! are all the more exciting because they didn’t use green screens. Scenic shots on Hawaii Five-O weren’t color-pumped with filters.

This week’s guest blog post is by Joey of Just Joey Travel Blog. Living in Brazil, he blogs and works remotely as an English teacher, and plans to travel to many new countries. Here he describes how hard, yet rewarding, it can be to un-virtual our lives…

Social Media: A Modern-Day Prison in the Midst of Freedom by Joey of Just Joey Travel Blog

Today, I took a small but defiant step. I removed Instagram from my phone.

It might sound trivial, but in a world where every swipe, scroll, and notification has been carefully engineered to capture our attention, this felt like a radical act. A quiet rebellion against the constant noise that’s trying to worm its way into every corner of my life—from the algorithms that decide what I should see, to the endless advertisements selling me everything from cigarettes and alcohol to miracle beauty serums and chemical-laced snacks.

Ironically, I haven’t deleted the app entirely. It still sits on my laptop like a shadow in the background, reminding me that I haven’t quite cut the cord. I find myself hesitating, wondering if I can really do it. After all, Instagram isn’t just a photo-sharing platform anymore—it’s become a crutch for communication, a digital memory book, a portfolio, and yes, sometimes, even a source of income.

But that’s the complicated truth of it, isn’t it?

Every morning, I wake up and reach for my phone. Before my eyes have even fully opened, my thumb is already instinctively tapping towards that little rainbow-hued icon. What am I looking for? Who am I trying to reach? Or more honestly—whose attention am I seeking? Is it that of my own ego?

Is it connection I crave? Or validation?

These are the questions that have started to bubble up more often now, especially as I live what many might call a dream life. I’ve moved to Brazil. I travel frequently, exploring new towns and cities every few months. I eat mangoes fresh from the trees, walk barefoot on golden sands, hear new language all around me, and watch the sun dip beneath the Atlantic as I paddle through its waters, more evenings than not.

And yet… am I really traveling, if I don’t share the tales?

Is the adventure real if it isn’t witnessed? If it isn’t packaged into a neatly filtered carousel of highlights with a clever caption?

This is the tug of war I face daily. The freedom I claim, the life I live with intention and wonder, is constantly being packaged, evaluated, and (let’s be honest) performed for an audience of around 2,000 followers. Friends, strangers, bots, brands—many of whom I will never meet, yet whose opinions and engagement metrics somehow impact my sense of worth and success.

It’s a modern-day prison. One we willingly walk into, with smiles on our faces and ring lights in our hands.

And yet, here I am—writing this blog post. Sharing my internal conflict in hopes it reaches someone. Maybe even gets liked. Maybe even gets shared. Maybe even lands a sponsorship deal. Another paradox. Another loop in the system.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s space for honesty here.

Maybe the act of naming the hypocrisy is a form of liberation too. To admit that yes, I still want to grow an audience. Yes, I’d like to earn a living through my words and travel stories. But not at the cost of my peace. Not if it means I stop looking around and appreciating the real world that’s right in front of me. The world I wade through with such courage and pride.

So for now, Instagram stays off my phone. I’ll choose slow mornings without the impulse to post. I’ll choose real conversations over comment sections. I’ll still create—but I’ll try to create from a place of presence, not performance.

It’s a work in progress. Freedom always is.

Stay with your moments.

Just Joey

How do you stay on track with what matters most to you in your everyday life?