Adventures in Electronics

My mother and I have both, historically, had somewhat ambiguous relationships to television. We rarely had a TV in the living room when I was growing up - it was always sequestered in a less central area. For many years, as an adult, I didn't even own a television. I ended up buying one when I went to graduate school in the late 1990s...a little 14" RCA from the Best Buy in Iowa City. I still have it.

In our recent years, before I got sick, I think it's fair to say that we both turned on the TV for at least an hour or two every day. I was also inclined to bingeing on hours and hours of trash TV now and then, which mom has never done in her life.

Since my illness, the TV and DVD player have been absolutely essential. I'm sure I don't have to explain this. While we rarely watch it during the early part of the day, nearly every evening we watch a bit of TV - everything from Judge Judy to Kitchen Nightmares on BBC America (NOT the Fox version...give us a bit of credit). These evening viewing times are also known as "Miller Time." This is when mom has her martini. Nothing can interfere with this. It's gone from being a casual habit to an iron clad rule.

We watch NY1 for the weather, of course, and BBC news. We watch all manner of DVDs together, and mom watches some on her own (Martha and I have gotten her addicted to "Lost", for example.)

Panic struck two days ago. I have an elderly DVD/VCR combo unit. I hadn't used the VCR in a long time. We have a bunch of Neal's videos that he "managed to collect" and we were ready to watch one. I had forgotten that there was a tape stuck in the VCR. When we tried to get it out, the whole thing stopped working, including the DVD player.

There's a PC Richard's in the neighborhood and mom went to buy a new player. No problem. We got one good and cheap. The only trouble was that my little Iowa TV is old and doesn't have the right hook-ups in the back. I now realized that my TV was a full decade old, which is an eon in this high-tech "buy a new one every year" climate.

We agreed that we'd have to go get a new television. Regular old televisions are cheap now, too, because everybody wants the flat screens. Rather than get another tiny one, we chose a 20' set from the website and made sure it was in the store. Mom set off (in the rain) with no real clue of how she was going to get this giant TV home. I have an elevator but there's a small flight of stairs up to the lobby, and a long walk to the back of the building.

Meanwhile, I sat and tried not to freak out. I was the one who was going to have to attempt to hook all this crap up.

Mom won't even attempt it; she won't even look at it. "I'm terrible at this. Just terrible," she says. She tells me I'm good at it, which is not entirely true. I have always managed to hook up my own stuff - TVs and VCRs and stereos, but I struggle a bit and usually have to try more than once to get it right. Also, usually, I'm alone and can rant and rave in privacy if things don't go my way.

Mom got a cab and the driver helped her with the huge TV box. I hooked everything up according to the instructions and nothing worked. We started calling friends to see if we could get some tech support. I spoke to my brilliant young "Massachusetts cousin" Faron who confirmed that it seemed I had done everything correctly. This is good news and bad news, needless to say. Kat, his mom, tried to get me some help, but her tech guy's son had strep throat, so that was out (everyone was sympathetic and helpful and I appreciate it very much).

I tried calling the Sony support line for help with the DVD player, but they kept cutting me off. I decided to call Time Warner and see if I could at least get the cable working. After getting transferred to the wrong place about six times, I got a very patient woman who even tried to help me with the DVD player (out of her purview). Getting the cable working was a matter of a few minor adjustments that are not in any manual.

I cannot fail to mention that meanwhile, it was Miller Time. Mom sat rigid with her martini, watching me, trying not to panic, frantically munching on sunflower seeds. Apparently I was the Miller Time entertainment for the evening. Even more gripping than "Lost", perhaps.

After hours of crawling around on the floor and scrambling around, in my weakened condition, I was completely exhausted. Mom and I agreed we would live without the DVD player for now.

By the way, I know some of you are wondering why we don't just use our laptops for DVDs. Mine is great with headphones if it's just me, but it's too small for mom and the sound sucks. Mom has a giant PC laptop but the DVD player software is apparently missing or disabled.

Anyway, spent though I was, I wanted to try one last thing. I shut everything off for a moment - DVD, cable box, and TV, and then turned it back on. I tried the DVD again, and no go. I tried the TV and I couldn't get the remote to work. It wouldn't change channels, it wouldn't mute, it wouldn't do anything. I finally lost my marbles.

As I said earlier, I usually do this type of thing alone. This time mom was standing right behind me when I yelled, "you fucking piece of shit" about nine times and threw my Hello Kitty hat on the floor. After my tantrum, I took a deep breath and got on the phone with Time Warner again. Remote in hand, I waited to speak to someone. After I had verified my account, the young woman asked how she could help. I pointed the remote again, absently, and this time it worked.

"I think I just solved my problem," I told her. I was very ashamed, suddenly. Fucking duh. I had been pointing the remote not at the cable box (which is now on the floor since it won't fit on the TV table anymore) but at the TV. For this I ranted and raved and threw my Hello Kitty hat.

Since I had her on the phone, I told the woman my problem. She said she could send a tech on Sunday for a small fee - no guarantees because they don't "support" DVDs and VCRs and blah blah blah. I suspect he or she will be better "support" than I am, though, and I'm hopeful that we will have success.

At this point, I walked away from the technology and made pasta for dinner. Don't ask me where the hell my energy is coming from.

My Miller Time came in the form of a giant bowl of Haagen Daaz chocolate ice cream with Hershey's chocolate syrup on it, at about 9 PM, in front of the TV.

Friday night is Loser TV night. If you're enough of a loser to be home on Friday, TV execs feel you deserve to watch Desperate Housewives or some other crap. Fortunately, we found a long string of British comedy on PBS, which was just what the doctor ordered.

Wish us luck with the DVD player.

I have to say, in closing, that I'm a little bit stunned that nobody felt moved to comment on the arresting beauty of Johnny Cash. You're all forgiven...I'm just a bit surprised, and well, a tad disappointed. I'll get over it, but I'm not sure he would. Fortunately he can't operate a computer (his thumbs get in the way.)

Much love and be well.

xo Leah