The title sets up a joke: aging as a kind of television. The opening lines sound almost casual, even wry. It's "entertaining," the speaker says, to watch how age and ruin change us, as if we were contestants on a show and he were sitting back with a snack. That detached tone is the first thing a reader notices.
Then the poem darkens. "A hard rain" arrives, and with it a meeting "with our selves," as though time's weather forces us to face who we have become. The final image, "a sort of tar," is sticky, black and heavy. It suggests that what is left after rain, age and wear is something thick and hard to escape.
The speaker seems to feel a mix of dark humor and unease. The word "entertaining" may be ironic, covering a real discomfort. The mood is wry on the surface and bleak underneath, and the short, clipped lines leave the reader with that heavy last image.