Illustration by Chris Lyons

Sam Firer remembers his moment of terror as if it were yesterday. It was a Friday morning, and he had just gotten home from a long trip to India. He turned on the television and fuzz! A frantic call revealed that his office assistant had neglected to pay the cable bill. The folks at Time Warner agreed to restore service, but not until Monday. Firer freaked out. It was like having your oxygen cut off, he says. But here s the twist: Three years later the Manhattan publicist still doesn t watch TV. By the time Monday rolled around, Firer had decided he was better off without it.

A growing number of Americans have discovered that life after TV means more than missing out on the next episode of Dancing With the Stars. According to Toronto research outfit The Convergence Consulting Group, 800,000 U.S. households have canceled their TV service over the past two years, and their ranks are expected to double by the end of 2011. It s hardly a cultural revolution; the groundswell of quitters represents less than 1 percent of TV viewers, and the average American is actually watching more television than ever before about 35 hours a week. But just a few years ago, the number of TV quitters was too small to measure, and now they could populate a top-10 U.S. city. (The TV folks aren t worried: A spokesperson with the National Cable & Telecommunications Association says that despite the cord-cutting, subscriptions are on the rise.)

For many quitters, the motivation is purely economic. Thanks to the recession, plenty of folks are happy to swap their $100 cable bill for free online programming. It s easy these days to make the switch from TV addict to YouTube zombie. But whatever the impetus, cutting the cord can have some unexpected upsides. I haven t been to Burger King in a year, says Wisedth Sar, who dropped his cable subscription in the spring of 2009. Thanks to his commercial-free lifestyle, he says, he s lost the impulse to gobble fast food. And the Providence, R.I., restaurant worker has taken up new hobbies ranging from boxing to building his own electric bicycle. His story is typical. I spoke with folks whose post-TV life included new jobs, a sweeter family life, even a new husband. As for Firer, he discovered he suddenly had time to catch up on all his chores and errands, not to mention to enjoy New York: I was like a tourist in my own city.

It s not all sunshine and self-actualization, of course. Andrea Crews, a Chicago-area mom and law-firm business-development manager, says that since she and her husband said no to Comcast, they ve enjoyed bike rides, volunteering and plowing through a list of Pulitzer-winning fiction. Then there s the dark side. Her brother-in-law refused to come over because he couldn t watch the Celtics game. When she spots a new cleaning product at the store, she has no idea what it s for. And while she regards her family as totally mainstream ( We re Republicans! ), she worries about being left out of the loop.

I know the feeling. I sold my TV back in 06, and I always feel a little stupid when I discover the Yanks are playing in the World Series a week after it s over. But quitters say there are ways to stay hooked up and even to sneak a peek at their favorite shows. Some allow themselves the occasional Hulu or YouTube vacation. Laurie Puckett, a St. Petersburg, Fla., marketing executive, says she goes to the gym for cardio sessions and the occasional American Idol fix. And then there s Elon Bomani, a Missouri City, Texas, wellness coach and mother of two. When she wants to catch up on the news, she just chats up her next-door neighbor, who keeps five TVs in her 6,000-square-foot home: She lets me know everything that s going on.