GET A DEGREE FROM TV TECH : Major in ‘Wheel of Fortune,’ Minor in ‘People’s Court’

The kids are back in school now--Darren is a fourth-grader, Shelby’s in second--but I can’t imagine what they have left to learn. They know about avarice and greed. They’ve had a crash course in pettiness and spite. They’ve learned to laugh at the law. And their math, in the crucial area of counting money, is flawless.

They spent the summer watching game shows and phony trials on TV.

When the summer began, I worried that they might sneak peaks at some of the saltier fare on Z Channel or Showtime and start asking some of those questions. Or that they would tune in to daytime dramas--soaps!--and get a perverse view of life among professional people.

But it was worse than any of that. They watched things like “The $25,000 Pyramid” and “The Joker’s Wild” and got hooked on the quest for the quick buck. They watched “People’s Court” and learned to never trust a neighbor, because he might drown your cat. And every day they watched romance go through the cycle, from “The Dating Game” to “The Newlywed Game” to “Divorce Court.”

This is serious business. You want your children to grow up to be contributing members of society and then, out of the blue, your son says he wants to be Pat Sajak when he grows up and your daughter has her eye on Vanna White’s job.

Shelby is only 7, but she knows a good deal when she sees one. Vanna turns blocks of vowels and consonants on “The Wheel of Fortune” every day. As far as my daughter is concerned, not only is college unnecessary, she’s not sure she needs to wade all the way through elementary school. Obviously, there are good jobs available for anyone with a grasp of her ABCs. (It would be counterproductive to explain to her that Vanna is not paid for her ability to turn the letters, but for the way she turns while turning them.)

Game shows do create the illusion of social responsibility. It is clear from the way most of the contestants on “The Price Is Right” dress that they can use anything they’re lucky enough to win. But when your children hear about homeless families and wonder why they don’t just go on game shows and win whatever they need, you figure maybe these things aren’t good.

There are unsavory new lessons to be learned on the half-hour during the day.

From “The Dating Game,” Darren and Shelby have learned that finding a mate can be as easy as No. 1 . . . No. 2 . . . or No. 3. You just think up a couple of chuckleheaded questions--like “Bachelor No. 2, I’m an orange and you’re a kumquat. What will our parents think?”--and then choose the person whose voice you like best.

From “The Newlywed Game,” they have learned that not only is it OK for young couples to humiliate themselves and trivialize their marriages, but that for those couples who can remember the name of the street they were parked on the last time they made love in one of their parents’ cars (“Oh, geez, Mom’s going to kill me when she hears this”), there may be a washer and dryer in it for them.

From “Divorce Court,” they have learned the value of lying under oath. There is almost never any evidence presented in these salacious courtroom re-enactments, but Judge Keene usually divines a winner and divvies up the goods--60% to this liar, 40% to that one, with Aunt Grace getting custody of the kids.

On “People’s Court,” the most unattractive marriage of law and show business since public hangings, they have seen real people thrash out their differences before a supercilious store-bought judge who talks to them as if their noses were running.

This is entertainment? Huh-uh. It’s an education.

So why didn’t I just turn off the TV and say, “No?” I did. But when they threatened to sue, I backed off. You won’t see me on “People’s Court.”