So I have a dirty little secret. We have TV.
We've actually had it for a week, but I was reluctant to write about it for fear of jinxing it. Because, you see, it's the old TV, risen from the dead.
Hallelujah!
We actually went a week without it. I thought we'd just go out and buy a new one, but the boyfriend has suddenly morphed into "Mr. Thrifty" and claimed we couldn't afford it. I offered to skip a car payment to cover it. I figured my credit is already shot from the loss of the house, so I had nothing more really to lose. Besides, they wouldn't repossess a car for just one missed payment, would they? I have to admit my financial judgements lately haven't been what you would call "spot on".
So we soldiered on for a week without TV. I took to turning the stereo to "Radio Free Bakersfield", the NPR station out of Fresno, for news from the outside world and their bizarre lineup of evening programs. The strangest of all was "The Jefferson Hour", an hour long show where an "actor" and "Jefferson scholar" was "interviewed" about current events, answering everything based on the writings of Jefferson. Who knew Jefferson had an opinion on broadband? You'll just have to take their word for it.
With the current state of the economy, me and the dogs huddled around the radio, and the boyfriend in the kitchen cooking by candlelight (we still have no lights in the kitchen), it was like a magical trip back to The Depression. You half expected FDR to come on each night and tell us we had nothing to fear but fear itself.
But then we remembered we had a shitty little TV in storage. It used to sit in my office, but the picture quality was so fuzzy it was like watching TV underwater and we had abandoned it. But now it would have to do. It was better than nothing, even if it did give you a frightening glimpse into a future with cataracts.
So the boyfirend decided to hook it up, and pulled the old dead flatscreen away from the wall to access the jungle of cables behind it and...
The damn thing just came on!
We have absolutely no idea how or why and we don't care.
We just assumed it would be short-lived, but every day it pops back up. It's at a 30 degree angle from the wall, but we're afraid to move it. We operate it from the remote for fear of touching it and breaking the magical spell that resurrected it. It doesn't make for optimal viewing, unless you're lying on the dining room floor. But I'm not complaining. As Tyra Banks says on "America's Next Top Model"... it's all about working the angles.
