What do you think about when you're listening?
When I am listening to comedy - I can think about anything at all and I follow along without any problem.
When I listen to Groucho, I think of a certain street/location in my hometown. It's funny, because this street and area is someplace I have never actually been. It's just off a main street in my hometown but I envision myself there, looking at the main street. This only happens when I listen to Groucho and I have no idea why!
When I listen to detective shows, I look straight ahead, my eye fixed on the curtain in my home. I watch the curtain so I can concentrate and I listen closely - otherwise, the plot or details *I* need will float by me.
I can't be doing paperwork of any kind, unless that is, I am taking notes for one of the blogs.
When I listen to police shows, I am "there" with them, especially the 21st Precinct. I know that police station well. I know where the detectives are. I know where the Captain's office is. I know it all. I see it very clearly because I actually "go" there. That's not the case with most shows, as I stay at home but 21st Precinct transports me to the station. I'm pretty sure I am invisible to the others there. :)
Another place I am transported to is the Riley's bungalo in The Life of Riley. I too, walk with Chester as he encounters "Digger" - it seems to be always dark and Digger kind of pops up. I am not scared, of course, since I know when Digger's going to pop up!
Now that I think about it, I am also at the Phil Harris-Alice Faye house. But it's strange, as I can only see 3/4ths of the house. It's too hard to explain but the house is not "open" to me - probably because I have never heard them talk about the rooms. I've never been upstairs there for sure.
And have you noticed, almost all situational comedy house have upstairs and down. One exception may be Jack Benny's home.
Which reminds me, I am only in one room in Benny's house; it's like a solarium. I can see a pool outside and I see the home of Ronald and Benita Colman as well.
When I listen to Gunsmoke, I am in the Long Branch or out in the street or perhaps on a long, hot (or cold) journey with Matt and Chester. Invisible, of course.