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NEW TV SET  When it's finally ready to use, the McFaddens hope to invite a few friends over to watch their big screen TV. But they're hoping the friends will not mistake their place for a drive-in theater and try to park their cars in the living room. |
Only a few more steps and it'll be perfect!
of TheColumnists.com
My wife Barbara and I are not members of the Nintendo Generation. I used to think that black telephones with cords and dials were technological wonders. I still don’t know how color pictures of Angelina Jolie crawl through copper wiring to appear on my television set.
Ah, my television set.
The rebate check arrived, and we decided to do what we were supposed to do--blow it on something to help the economy. We had been thinking for some time about buying a big, flat screen television. We had no idea what was involved. We do now.
You think you go down to the store, take a look around, plunk down the price of the set and away you go, all ready to enjoy? Oh, my friend, sit down and hear my tale. Little do you know. Little did we know.
First, there is the decision about plasma vs. LCD. One sounds like something you get when you go to the hospital and need a transfusion. The other sounds like something favored by Timothy Leary. I finally, um, doped out that LCD means “Liquid Crystal Display.” I think it’s display. Anyway, I thought liquid crystal stuff was for digital watches. Remember them? They showed little black numbers on a gray background, with the seconds blinking inexorably on and on. What’s this about great big color pictures labeled “LCD”? How do they do that?
Because all the experts we consulted (Kevin, the salesman at Best Buy) seemed to think that LCD was better than plasma, we went with LCD. It must be better. It sure is more expensive.
Then there was the question of how big? We have been squinting at a meager 27-inch tube set for 15 years now, and at our age we were not renting films with subtitles because they were too small to read. After looking at the 27-incher, a 40-inch set would be more than adequate, Barb decreed.
No way. We needed a 46-incher, preferably a 52-inch set with hypersonic-ready-to-rumble speakers, I replied.
Barbara was horrified. “I’m not having anything like that in my living room!” she declared.
“You should get the biggest set you can afford, and overlook your Calvinistic upbringing,” I said righteously.
But she did have a point. Our living room is somewhat old-fashioned and formal. A great big black expanse of high-techy-looking television wouldn’t exactly add to the décor. It had to be enclosed. So that meant a search across the land for furniture stores for something to keep the beast safely tucked away and out of sight. The search was a saga in itself, but we finally found an enormous piece of furniture made in China that would swallow up even a 46-inch behemoth. (Also made in China, of course.)
Removal of the 35-ton existing piece of furniture that had housed the old set involved three sweating men, loss of the trim on top when it banged down on the street pavement, and a sort of brief camaraderie among those of us who conquer the unconquerable.
The question of size was finally resolved when we finally compromised on a 42-inch set. It arrived a few days ago. It is big. And mysterious.
You think you get a television set these days, you plug it in, maybe hook up the DVD player and cable and off you go? Ha. It is to laugh. Ha.
First off, the back of the set looks like the control panel of a 747. But that was solved quickly because the guy who delivered the set plugged everything in correctly, then used the remote to flip through a series of computer-style boxes that appeared on the screen to do--something. I’m not sure what. But Hooray! Things seem to work, sort of.
Now we are waiting for the “installer.” He or she will “install” the set. But since things are hooked up, we had considered calling off the installer. I mean, what’s to install?
That was before I tried switching back and forth between the DVD player and live television. The great dumb beast simply stared sullenly back at me without responding when I hit the “DVD” button on the remote. (Which is, incidentally, the only way you can give orders to this monster. There are no buttons to press on the set itself. When the remote’s batteries give out, you’re out of touch until you get new ones.)
As is traditional, the owner’s manual was of absolutely no help in this, or any other, situation. “Press DVD” it says. So you do that, and the button lights up, and nothing else happens.
I did finally get the DVD player up and running, though, no help from the manual. I just blundered around until a miracle occurred and the DVD picture made it to the screen. Only thing is, I’m not sure I can repeat the sequence. I don’t want to make the damn thing mad. I’m going to have to throw myself on the mercy of the installer to unravel the mysteries of getting the DVD picture onto the screen.
After the installer installs, there is yet another visit to be arranged. This is the “calibration.” That can only occur after the TV has been played for at least 100 hours. I’m not sure what calibration is all about, but I suppose it’s better to have calibrated television than un-calibrated.
I do have high hopes for the calibration ceremony, though, because right now, Barbara thinks people look a little fat and pushed out in the middle. (We saw a homemade video of her on a Normandy beach.) I’m hoping calibration will restore everyone to their normal level of svelte. Do you suppose the calibrator wears a carved wooden mask? Is there a dance involved?
All of this costs money, of course. Delivery, installation, calibration--comes to a couple hundred bucks in addition to the teeth-rattling nudge for the set itself. But hey, who am I to presume to calibrate? I can’t even install completely.
Then I found out that the picture we have now, even after calibration, will not be up to snuff. Oh, no. It can be made much, much, better--as good as the stunning pictures on display at the store which caused us to buy the set in the first place. We can get full high-definition, or HD, as we technical people say. Only it will require a telephone call to the cable company and the addition of a small sum to our monthly bill.
I don’t know what will happen next
in all this. I am secure, however, in the certain knowledge that
Barbara and I have done our part to boost the nation’s sagging
economy. Thing is, by the time this is all over, it seems certain
we will have boosted it more than we intended to. Patriotic spending
is one thing; getting the damn DVD to work is another.
©2008 by Charles M. McFadden. The McFadden caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. The illustration is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA. This column first posted July 14, 2008.
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