HDTV SAGA CONTINUES:

Rest of the 10th of December:

Having finally got our Television upstairs, we placed it on the cabinet, and attached the external devices, as instructed, which was just the amplified rabbit ear antenna for now, we could finally plug in and turn on "Toshiba REGAZA 42" Integrated High Definition LCD Television with ColorStream HD... Dolby Digital. It was exciting until I realized I didn't know how to operate anything! I only knew how to turn it on. When I did, little "windows" popped up on the screen like on a computer, and with the joggle switch in the middle of the remote, I was able to follow the on TV instructions, but couldn't seem to get much going for me. I was suddenly in fear that the switch to HDTV was going to be a washout, and here we had banked on this huge 42" thing that seemed to only magnify the snow.

Then while watching it, every two minutes, a very clear picture of two lions--the showroom demo of the screen divided, showing the lion with Toshiba's ColorStream on and off to show the difference. It was supposed to only be for the showroom at the store.... their demo. I looked up in the book how to get rid of the lions, and found that just pushing on the center of the joggle, "Enter" would do away with the beasts. So in the evening we watched TV with my thumb on the middle of the joggle switch to get rid of the lions which seemed to appear just as we were to hear an important part of the program which we were watching. I had taken out my notebook and listed the pages, and next to each page line, I summarized what was in the book. It didn't seem to help me in the least, but new electronics are always like Greek to me.

At bedtime while Tom took an Aleve, I had a little vodka mixed in with my tonic water for the after effects of our two days of having brought heavy stuff up stairs, and from the after effects of Tom's fall. I had checked his wrist, the soreness, how his fingers operated, and the fact he could carry stuff without soreness as long as the flexed hand was aligned with his arm when carrying, but when holding something from the side, like the bales of hay, it hurt... so we think it was a strain, and no need for X-rays.

I unplugged the TV for the night, telling Tom that tomorrow I'll start over and somehow get rid of the demo lions appearing every two minutes.

Next day: Dec. 11
Tom was due for an appointment he's had all along for a check up at the doctor's, and left first thing in the morning. I told him to have them check his wrist. He had shown me that he also had a skinned knee, though not a serious injury, and said he hurt his hip, but thought it was just bruised. Later when he returned, he showed me a bruise he discovered on his neck. I guess because of the all point landing, he didn't do much damage to any one area, but his wrist was the worst of it.

So, when I got up, Wednesday I poured my coffee, and immediately plugged in the TV again, but before turning it on, while sipping coffee, I checked out the page showing the remote control functions. It took me awhile to find the right thing to turn the lions' demo off, as the lions began appearing every two minutes again. Finally I searched through every area of what came up when I poked the "Menu" button. Then I highlighted Channel Program, which was like the autoprogram, on the old TV. Suddenly there were beautiful HD channels. Although we get Picasso-like video from Binghamton, most of our stations are out of Scranton and Wilkes-Barre were these stations tuned in probably from the Scranton Wilkes-Barre area. All of the channels are being transmitted in analog now--we know that. But of the Big 3 local to scranton only ABC's channel 16 is now being transmitted in digital as well. When the channel number comes up and is just a number, with no -1 or -2 after it, it is just analog [i.e. ABC has 16, 16-1, and 16-2. A figure after means it's in HD... or digital, AND, by the way, the HD channels are EVERYTHING THEY'RE CHALKED UP TO BE! It makes what I've gone through all worth it, believe it or not.

Today: Dec.12
Our Channel 22 is not only just a very fuzzy CBS transmission, today because of yesterday's ice storm, we get nothing; but we could make out the picture for CSI last night, but it went out during the Eleventh Hour... literally... between 10 and 11... ha, ha. I was surprised that our Channel 28--NBC--is also just transmitted on analog so far. No HD yet, but it's a fairly good picture, but not when compared to HD. We still get the strange "Picasso-like shadowy transmissions" from NY for channels 34 and 40, and 46, but we get our Pennsylvania's PBS: WVIA/ 44 analog as well as 44-1, the HD; We get a good just 56 (analog) from Fox Television Network and then 56-1, 56-2, and 56-3... allthe dash numbers are different HD broadcasts. Then we get ION's channel 64 so clear you'd almost think it was HD except in comparing the next, 64-1(same broadcast), then 64-2 seems to be all cartoons, and 64-3 seems to be mostly infomercials, and 64-4 is The Worship Network. That's a pretty one to just look at, as so far it seems that most of the day, though they are selling the DVDs it, like an informercial, they show many beautiful videos of scenery along with kind of "New Age" music, and if you want to read it, there are really nice quotes from the Bible. Something to nap or meditate by.

This evening we'll be able to watch Fox's "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader" as closely as if we were a member of the live audience. Nothing much is on tonight, so I'll probably watch my latest NetFlix selection, East of Eden, with Jimmy Dean.

Before we got our new TV, we had been thinking of getting a satellite dish bundled with our telephone and DSL which would be cheaper than paying for everything separately. But, we already watch too much TV. But, again, watching TV is what we do in the evenings, so why not watch it in the nicest way? Now with the HD channels we do get, and hopefully will get after February, I don't think we'll bother with any satellite dish as we would be even more transfixed to our TV, and we should get up and walk around a little bit during the evenings, at least during the commercials. With HDTV, even the commercials are more entertaining. And, we notice backgrounds more. We watched Two and a Half Men's reruns on FOX last night, and I could feel like I was in Charlie's kitchen. Nice set. Never appreciated it more.

I installed our DVD/VCR to the new TV set yesterday, and looked at a DVD just to see what it was like, and it was like having our own home theater. Wonderful. But, having hooked up everything, and got all the wiring plugged into the right places, it freed me up today and for the first time in 3 or 4 days I actually took the dogs for a walk during the day. Had been taking them for flashlight walks, as I didn't seem to have the time during the day.

Today, I should say, they walked, but I cross country skied. Before when it snowed in late October it just didn't seem right that I didn't enjoy the snow. I was afraid I lost my wonder of winter. It was all gained back today when I skied up to the Lake, and stood at the edge of the woods trying to find out where the strange noises were coming from, and looking up at the 100 foot tall pines, coated with ice, and a touch of snow, making strange noises because of their ice resisting while they were swaying in the breeze. My "wonder" is back. No matter what kind of picture you are watching, be it photo, theater, or TV, there is nothing that beats watching Mother Nature in person.

HDTV ~ DAY TWO:

Dec. 10: Do-it-yourselfers Go Wrong:

Wow! What a F-ing day! (Sorry, but sometimes that implied swear is appropriate.)

First thing in the morning, Tom and I took off that TV stand. He was going to carry the stand separately and put the big hunka-hunka screen into the box it came in. Carefully, I might add, with the packing insulating the flawed TV.

Like I had said the night before... he was going to return it himself... but I helped him carry down the TV, where it fit very well into the back seat of my Elantra. (Good thing, as it was raining, and when I'd brought it home, I had to have it hang out of the back, as the cabinet could only fit in the back seat.) Then off Tom went to play "bad cop" and not take any guff from those in the electronics salesroom at Olums. He had a talk with them. They admitted it "Shudda been checked out before it left the store." They assured him the one he brought back had been carefully checked. All he got was an apology. He cancelled the two year warranty. Toshiba has a one year warranty on its products anyway, and we felt they wouldn't do much better if needed, seeing how they didn't respond to our first problem. So, he saved $62 plus tax.

We decided it would be easier to take it up the inside stairs from the walk in basement and brought it in. Tom says, "We'll unpack it here and put on the stand before we take it up"... saying these recallable words..."It will be easier."

I think he thought it will be lighter, but it wasn't, of course... it was just without the cardboard box and styrofoam which couldn't have weighted more than a couple of pounds if that.

Assembled, we took the short ends of the screen, holding it vertically, and he backed up taking the lead up the stairs... those confoundedly steep stairs Charlie (his nephew) put in. The problem with this is that we had no handles--the cardboard box had slots in which to insert hand and carry it safely ...and with that packing insulation against possible bumps.

Tom was on the up side. The day before he took the heavy down side for both the assemled cabinet, and the original TV. I offered to take the down (heavy side) this time...and it WAS heavy. When taking something heavy and non-giving... Something requiring BOTH hands, it takes perfect co-ordination and balance. We sounded off each step: "Up... Up... Up..." Tom and I stopping suddenly with each end of the step up, but each sudden stop would cause a rebound, and after the third step up from the landing, I lost my balance, catching it again by stepping back, and yelled, Wait!" which didn't help. This caused Tom to lose his balance. I was only on the third step, but he was next to the top, and in less than a second, he had dropped the TV, and to my astonishment had hurdled down. I don't know how he rolled or kept himself from not breaking something, and next thing I knew he was crumpled at my feet like a collapsed parade balloon. The TV set had gone "Bump Bump" down as I was forced to back up against the wall opposite the stairs, and the far corner of the TV was precariously balanced on the last step before the landing--one more step and it would have gone crashing in a tumble roll on to the hard un-cushioned carpet of the cement basement floor.

My first thought was, "Should I call 911." Tom's first words were "Get me out of here." His head was bent against the wall, his back was curved on the landing on his left side, and his legs were still up on the stairs. So he was basically kind of upside down.

Knowing he was conscious, and could move, my second thought was for the TV set... the one we had just cancelled the warranty on. I could see the scuff marks on its screen from Tom's shoes as he had careened past it on his flight down. I also wondered if anything got jarred loose inside, and worried that Toshiba was as sturdy TV. I said, "Tom, can you reach the corner of the TV and pull it towards you? It's close to falling. Curled up on the landing, he managed to pull it so it's corner was safely resting on the bottom step while I was still holding the other end. I finally said, "Are you OK? Do you want me to call 911?" I moved my end of the TV so he could move enough to get himself upright again, and didn't answer until he was again standing, rubbing his wrist, making sure he could still use his hand.

"I guess I'm OK," he said, looking up at the stairs. "Can you believe I fell all that way down?! That's probably the worst fall I've ever taken. My wrist hurts, and my left hip, but I guess I'm OK."

"Can you still carry up the TV?" I asked. "Let's carry it up with the screen vertical between us."

It was much easier carrying it across from each other. I was praying that Toshiba had made a set sturdy enough for the bumps it took.

Tom and I managed to get it up to the kitchen, and paused there to catch our breath and wait for our blood pressure to lower as well as our adrenalin level. Then we took it the rest of the way into the living room, setting it on its stand on its final resting place on top of the cabinet. "Tra-La!" As simple as that!

Folks! Please, have the place where you buy your 40"+ new HDTV deliver and set it up for you! This money saving way almost cost us $999 plus tax down the drain-- and also could have cost my husband's life. It's just not worth my ever-saving money ways. We can't afford cutting corners by taking chances anymore.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about coping with this new technology. And the results. Could we get the reception we had gotten with the analog from those stations broadcasting in digital already? We soon would find out.

THE NEW HDTV SET... DAY ONE:
Dec. 9 Never So Disappointed in all My Life:

I can't think when I was more disappointed. After basically spending the the day in anticipating my bringing home both the cabinet and the TV; getting it home; and almost busting our backs getting it upstairs to the balcony and into the living room; and then pulling out the 10-ton old RCA console out; and vacuuming the years of accumulated dust and dead ladybugs; after putting together the base; putting the TV face down on the couch (required a soft surface) to put on the base; then carefully placing our prize on the cabinet (which was my end of this costly deal) there appeared to be a dark "nub" at the top of the screen, and some cobwebs extending from that "nub." Having got that far, we had to take a break while Tom did his chores.

While Tom went out to feed his cows, I got my glasses so I could take a closer look. I had thought it really was cobwebs, but couldn't get them removed with the soft cloth that came with the set for keeping the screen free of dust. To my alarm, on close observation, I now realized that this "nub" was a part of the top of the screen that didn't go into the frame properly at the factory, but had pushed out under the frame, and had caused the weblike fracture marks I had been trying to dust away.

Tom was still outside, and I stood there transfixed on the flaw and my dreams of seeing the possibilities of watching HDTV with a VHF amplified antenna were being crushed. My heart sank. You would think my best friend had died. Well, maybe having a friend die so recently my anger and disappointment swam to the top like a big bubble bursting up from under the water. I was crushed to pieces! I found the card the salesman from Olums gave me, and called. Later I realized I should have asked for the manager... This is why. When John got on the phone, and I told him the problem, the very nice salesman turned very pragmatic and unfeeling. He said, almost merrily, "No Problem! Just bring it back and we'll set you up with another."

"Bring it BACK myself?!" I said. Can't someone bring one out here to replace it. We carried it in and assembled it this far, and I think, whereas we paid for the 2 year Olums' warranty, that you should bring it here."

"That would cost you $60, and you'd have to talk with a manager," he said.

(Think about being so angry that your head wants to explode, and then think "I can't let my anger show or I'll get NOTHING out of this deal.)

"I'll have my husband call back. He's outside at the moment. He doesn't even know that the problem is a factory flaw. I'm afraid to even turn on the TV."

"No, I wouldn't do that. Just bring it back, and we'll be glad to replace it."

When Tom got back in, I told him to put on his reading glasses and take a close look at the top of the TV screen. I waited until he did, and told him about calling the salesman, John. I said that he'd better call him back.

"I told him I'd have you call him," I said. "You'd better, as I think THEY should come up here and replace this goddamned TV set. I don't have one ounce of energy left to be taking it back down and bringing it back!"

"Well, if he said he'd be glad to replace it, we'll bring it back tomorrow and do just that."

"I THINK THEY SHOULD COME UP HERE WITH THE REPLACEMENT!" I said with a bad-cop attitude. (You see, Tom is always the "bad cop" when it comes to a deal gone sour. He'll usually rip into anyone who's giving him a hard time, acting poorly towards us or him; and I AM THE ONE who is the "good cop," smoothing things over and being diplomatic. The only reason I didn't call and ask to speak to a manager was that I WAS SO MAD I KNEW I'D CRY and then they'd know they could take advantage of my vulnerability. Now I added my disappointment at Tom's not going to be the "bad cop" to this deal.)

Tom stuck to his guns saying "We'll take it back tomorrow morning."

"I AM NOT GOING WITH YOU. YOU CAN TAKE IT BACK YOURSELF. YOU DON'T WANT ME ALONG. BELIEVE ME, YOU DON'T WANT ME WITH YOU. IT WOULDN'T BE PRETTY!" I really thought I would end up making a scene in the showroom if I went along.

I needed a good stiff drink. It was getting late. Tom said, "Aren't you going to cook up the chicken?"

I was thinking, "How the hell can he expect me to do ANYTHING at this point," but said, "Can't we have the lamb chops? I saw some in the meat drawer." He'd be capable of grilling them on the BBQ on the back deck.

"The chicken has been thawing out and now it's warm, you should cook it."

I was seething inside. I was completely irrational, but put on the rational ACT, and went into the kitchen to get the chicken on. I'm sure I crashed around a little making my extreme ire known, but once the chicken was in the oven, and it had to cook for about an hour, Tom asks (if you can believe this), "Can you connect the old TV up so we can watch it tonight?"

"Why don't YOU do it!" I said, knowing it's because he's always left the electronic stuff to me, and me an electronics get along like matchsticks and dynamite, but whereas he can understand legalistic lingo on paper and I can't, I don't chide him for his not being handy with electronics.

"You know how to connect up the things and where they connect to," he answered.

I wearily positioned myself behind the old RCA, taking up the wires I had disconnected, and looked at them like I would look at an inscription written in Greek. Then I got into my rational mind. I didn't need to set up the VCR/DVD player. What did I basically need: The antenna connected, and the TV plugged back in. I did that and could get NOTHING. I checked my wiring, and used the old hook up with those stupid clips that sit under the screws, put them in place, and tightened them, tried again, and we got channels but they were the worst reception ever. I hadn't moved the amplified antenna, so though the TV was in the middle of the living room, it should be receiving the same reception. I was running out of ideas. I figured if I went to autoprogram that it would only take in the channels that were getting reception, so I did that, and voila! The reception was as perfect as ever.

We watched the old TV the rest of the night. My girlfriend Charis had called me early evening after this whole episode. We were supposed to go to the movies that night. I started telling her about my day, and ended up crying. I hate to cry. It makes me feel all washed out. The once before when I recently cried it was for the good reason of hearing that M. my friend whom I'd rode to dialysis for 2 and a half years was stopping dialysis. At that time it actually made me feel better. Sometimes tears are necessary, but tears of anger make me feel like my energy is totally spent and gone in every way. I was exhausted. I told her that no way could I go to the theater tonight. She understood. She's another person who fits that C. Raymond Beran poem about "What is a Friend."

That was the end of Day One of the New HDTV... (Just wait until you hear the second chapter.)

TEACHING THROUGH EMBARRASSMENT~ MOST EFFECTIVE,
~BUT LEADS TO HATING THE TEACHER

I'm one of those people who remember every embarrassing moment from the time I could remember anything... but the last time I was truly embarrassed was not so long ago. That day,several months ago, I'd gently reminded someone that morning that their fly was unzipped. Later, I was at the waiting room in the hospital where I had driven my dialysis patient. I saw that an alert and well dressed elderly woman who had been sick was there, and I was glad to see her finally able to drive her husband in again. I waved to her where she sat, and said how glad I was to see her. She said she had been very ill, but didn't elaborate. However, she held out her arms to give me what I thought was a sweet hug for my caring enough to ask about her. So I bent over extending my arms to accept her hug, being really touched that she would want to hug me. I was becoming quite fond of her too, and the affection display not only surprised me, but opened me up to her in a lovingly vulnerable way. When I went to give her a peck on the cheek, she kind of pulled away so she could aim at my ear, and whispered loudly, "Your zipper is down."

That was funny, because I had noticed another's zipper earlier, and mine must have been down at that time. But the immediate feeling of this "reminder" was that I'd lay myself wide open to this woman's affection, only to be told in a private manner that my zipper was down, as if the hug and the implication of friendship was a rue to get me close enough to tell me of my careless zipper. If she had indicated by sign language it would have ended up being more effective and less embarrassing. But what was most embarrassing to me wasn't my zipper at half mast (it's not like anything was going to flop out through a woman's fly), I was embarrassed and hurt that she used a friendly gesture to keep the faux pas private. My reaction was to straighten up and tell her how "Wow, that's human nature for you, I had reminded another of their fly being down earlier, and didn't even notice mine was hanging open!" Of course, by then the others in the room by then knew of the zipper incident. I went over to M. who was still waiting his turn for dialysis, and sat as if he needed my company instead of his being my rock to hold on to, easing me from my inner storm of embarrassment. From then on, every time I saw this woman in the waiting room, I couldn't feel warm and fuzzy about her anymore. Since then I have been more attentive to zipping up... she was a good teacher, but one I no longer liked because of her using the false fondness merely so she could discretely tell me about my zipper.

Listen, folks, just a nod, and a glance at the area should do... or a "mouthed", "XYZ", but not a false expression of fondness. It opens a kind of vulnerability that makes the only real lesson really learned is not to be fond of that person. At least for my type personality... a personality that even remembers embarrassment even at toddler age, when I once looked up under my mother's dress because I wanted to see if she was the shape of her dress...( "what WAS under there?")... instead, I got yelled at. And... why would I remember that? I wasn't being lewd, but was made to feel ashamed of my curiosity. What a difference it would have made if my mom asked me why I looked up there, instead of reacting like I had a dirty mind instead of just being curious. I would have said "I wanted to see if you had legs like us, or was shaped like the dress." At least I think that's what I would have said. And if she said, "Women usually wear dresses, but we all have a people shape..." and "It's best you don't look up women's dresses, as we like to stay private," It also would serve to be a good time to explain to a toddler about privacy. But Mom was human, and had her own automatic reactions to embarrassment herself.

On the mother side myself, I still have hostile feelings towards the curiosity of some little boys in my old neighborhood back about 40 years ago who now probably have teenagers of their own. They had been playing around my house, and I'd gone down to the laundry room to throw in another wash. I was doing a non-bleach wash, the same kind for my underwear, and threw what I was wearing into the machine. In so doing, I heard some giggling, and turned towards the noise to see those two brothers peeking in my window. I was horrified! I think I was too embarrassed to tell their mother. I hoped they told theirs and she gave them a spanking or gave them a three day time out, but knew that she probably had gotten a good laugh if they had told. Who knows... I may have threatened them and embarrassed them to the point where they never forgot my yelling at them ...but I somehow doubt it. When a brother is along, you have support and a little shelter from embarrassing situations. But, if I did embarrass them, I'm glad I was their teacher about the bad idea of peeking in another's windows. I may have saved them from a stalking charge, but most likely I probably am that woman who will go down in their memory as the first naked woman they'd seen.

Gads... Now I'm embarrassing myself.

Cranberry Jo

WHAT IS A FRIEND,
by C. Raymond Beran

What is a friend? I will tell you.
It is a person with whom you dare
to be yourself. Your soul can be naked
with him. He seems to ask of you
to put on nothing, only to be what you
are. He does not want you to be
better or worse. When you are with
him, you feel as a prisoner feels
who has been declared innocent. You
do not have to be on your guard.
You can say what you think, so long as it
is genuinely you. He understands
those contradictions in your nature that
lead others to misjudge you.
With him you breathe freely. You can
avow you little vanities and envies
and hates and vicious sparks, your meanesses
and absurdities and, in opening
them up to him, they are lost, dissolved on
the white ocean of his loyalty.

He understands. You do not have to be
careful. You can abuse him,
neglect him, tolerate him. Best of all,
you can keep still with him. It
makes no matter. He likes you--he is
like a fire that purges to the bone.
He understands. He understands.
You can weep with him, sin with him,
laugh with him, pray with him.
Through it all--and underneath--he sees,
knows and loves you. A friend?
What is a friend? Just one, I repeat,
with whom you dare to be yourself.

(In Memory of M.H. who died 11/28/08)

Since my last blog...

I thought my daughter-in-law, Stephanie had lost all her hair due to the chemo, but Thanksgiving was at her house, and she had a short blond haircut, no longer than 1/2" long. She says some of it has already fallen out, and the rest will follow. It usually takes several months of chemo before one goes absolutely bald. I said it was good to see it going by degrees, as it will be far less shocking when it's all gone. She's was so positive that she's going to get through this, and by Thanksgiving, the tumors... there were two lumps... were shrunk to nothing already from the chemo. She seemed in great spirits and everyone there was so happy to be there and realized what Thanksgiving was really all about: the people you love. My daughter who lives in Virginia Beach came up directly to Alb and Stephanie's and stayed there until Saturday morning when also my stepdaughter Trese came with family. Just before they arrived I got a phone call from the son of the man whom I've been driving two and a half years to and from dialysis.

He told me that M. had died on Friday, 11/21/08. The dogs were barking at my families' arrivals, and I said my good byes to M.'s son, and thanked him for telling me. I wasn't able to tell the girls until later. They knew how much I cared for this man. I knew he was terminal, but it's strange, when one can only give up getting treatment to die, that kind of death seems so different. I find I don't know how to take that. I think he did it for his family, and when he decided to, he thought the death was going to be hard and cruel, but his daughters who are nurses and had read up on such, found that it was one of the most peaceful deaths. I did look it up online, as I kind of had to hear it from the "horse's mouth." There was substantial reports from notable authority that this was so. It was therefore easier to visit him knowing that.

I visited him once since he gave up treatment two weeks previous, and if I was him I may have given up long ago... the idea of dialysis really freaks me out. He had cancer of the bladder, which they had to remove, and then his kidneys stopped functioning after several months, though he still wears a catheter bag that collects little. He had been on dialysis 3x a week. It took a lot of his week away from him, and his vision has gone so he can't read during treatment, and no longer liked watching TV during his 4 hours of dialysis. He was a pilot for the Navy during the Korean Conflict. He saw some action and hated war. He was an interesting guy with a great sense of humor, and someone with whom, I could talk about ANYTHING! It was a rare thing. He had a great personality and sense of humor. His wife died a year earlier of the effects to her lungs from having survived lung cancer. She was a peach too. His family tried to take care of him, but it had become so difficult for them that I think that's what's pushed him over the edge of caring about living anymore. I'm not in their shoes, so I won't judge them, I think M. wanted to give up for them. At first I was angry with them, but... Now I no longer hold any anger towards them.

When I went over to see him the Monday after he made his decision, he was still doing well... almost seemed better than ever, but it was only 5 days since his last dialysis. I brought him a book mark with a picture of "The Hand of God" and a small child fitting into that hand with the quote from Isiah 49:15, "I will not forget you... I have held you in the palm of my hand." I wrote on the other side, "[M.], You are still my hero. I too will not forget you. Love, [...]Jo."

I'm sure his wife will be waiting for him on the Other Side, and Heaven has gained for our loss.

I'm going to copy some prose by C. Raymond Beran about what friendship is, and it is the type of friendship I had with M.

Cranberry Jo