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.)