Lightning zapped our television Saturday.I’m not really surprised. In fact, I wonder why it didn’t happen sooner, since we’ve endured a stormy onslaught from Mother Nature just about every day …
Lightning zapped our television Saturday.
I’m not really surprised. In fact, I wonder why it didn’t happen sooner, since we’ve endured a stormy onslaught from Mother Nature just about every day for the past couple of weeks.
Power outages have been an almost daily thing.
We bought that TV 13 or so years ago. I’ve been waiting for it to go out for 12 years or so.
Yesterday we bought a new one. We didn’t want to have to buy one, but since we had to, we decided to embrace it.
I know what you’re probably thinking. You’re thinking I am going to make fun of all the ridiculous choices in TVs.
You’re thinking I’m going to criticize the industry for having both high definition, ultra high definition and something called 4K resolution.
You’re getting ready for me to throw out a couple of zingers regarding the difference between LED and OLED screens, and whether 8 million pixels is really better than the old-timey 2 million.
Oh, and of course, you just know I will have a little fun at the sales guy’s expense for being either inept or too eager.
But I’m not going to do any of that.
We actually bought the thing without too much of a problem; and the sales guy was extremely knowledgeable and helpful.
I like it. It’s got all the bells and whistles. I can talk to the remote, which is something I’ll probably never do, but I can if I want to.
The remote also has a little button labeled “Netflix” which is infinitely easier than our old system.
We got it home and unboxed it.
I immediately did the unthinkable when I said, “Looks like we can just plug this cable in here and that’s all we have to do.”
That’s just like saying, “I haven’t seen a cop all day,” while you’re speeding down the interstate trying to get to the beach as fast as you can.
That proverbial plugging in of the cable took about six hours.
I programmed it, attached it to the WiFi and introduced it to our cable box.
Finally, we were ready to go.
I hit the button on the remote that says TV, and the words “no signal” appeared on the screen.
Through the process of elimination, I finally theorized that maybe lightning got the cable box, too.
I called the cable company.
Forty-three minutes later the representative on the phone had done all she could do. The cable guy is coming sometime between 6 and 7 tonight.
Those 8 million pixels don’t mean a dang thing if all those little bitty actors and singers and athletes that somehow come through that little piece of wire can’t get from the cable box to the screen.
One day I’ll have to ask my remote how any of that works in the first place.
Update: If you read me religiously like I certainly know you do, you will remember that last week I told you about the broken traffic cone that for months had been sitting on top of a little utility repair site beside the road in our neighborhood.
I am happy to report I am a magician. I made it disappear.
The day I wrote the column was the last day it was there.
Maybe it floated away.
(About the writer: Barry Currin is founder and president of White Oak Advertising and Public Relations, based in Cleveland. “Stories of a World Gone Mad” is published weekly. Email the writer at email@example.com.)
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