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pjthompsonSo, I settled into my comfy new chair last night thinking I really was quite tired from a weekend of shopping (which I hate), cleaning, and rearranging furniture and I was really in the mood to just veg with some screen. There was a really bad movie on the SciFi channel, but I was in the mood for some bad sf—you dig? The chair is also in my favorite reading spot, and sometimes I read while I watch TV, or sometimes with the TV off (oh my!), but I wanted veg time.
So an hour into this low-brow wallow my picture tube explodes. Or implodes. Whatever, there was this low poom sound, the picture dissolves to a fist-sized ball of light then goes out completely, but there's this high-pitched whine coming from the TV and the room begins to fill with that burning electrical/burning plastic smell. I immediately unplugged the whole contraption, opened all the windows and doors, brought fans in from the bedroom to blow it away, but I still had to retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the evening. It took hours for that smell to go away and, even so, when I went to bed at midnight, I could smell a residual of it in one corner of the living room. I wonder how many brain cells I lost to this fiasco?
Anyway, the smell's gone this morning, but I have a dead TV sitting in front of my nice comfy chair.
This TV was a Zenith I bought eight years ago. Seems like it should have lasted longer. "Well, dear," my mother says this morning, "they don't make things like they used to." Uh huh. The 20-year-old Zenith up on top of the filing cabinet that I sometimes watch while I'm on the 'puter is still running so I can still watch if I really need to or watch dvds on the 'puter. If I had any dvds. This is not a tragedy, just an irritation.
This year has been the revolt of the machines, starting with my old computer just about this time last year. It's all right, though. They are only things. I know some human beings who are in trouble right now and that's much worse than losing things.
I do so hate to shop, though.
Question of the day: Do you suppose the people at the Style network realized beforehand that their cable abbreviation would be STY? Seems kind of appropriate in a way.
So an hour into this low-brow wallow my picture tube explodes. Or implodes. Whatever, there was this low poom sound, the picture dissolves to a fist-sized ball of light then goes out completely, but there's this high-pitched whine coming from the TV and the room begins to fill with that burning electrical/burning plastic smell. I immediately unplugged the whole contraption, opened all the windows and doors, brought fans in from the bedroom to blow it away, but I still had to retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the evening. It took hours for that smell to go away and, even so, when I went to bed at midnight, I could smell a residual of it in one corner of the living room. I wonder how many brain cells I lost to this fiasco?
Anyway, the smell's gone this morning, but I have a dead TV sitting in front of my nice comfy chair.
This TV was a Zenith I bought eight years ago. Seems like it should have lasted longer. "Well, dear," my mother says this morning, "they don't make things like they used to." Uh huh. The 20-year-old Zenith up on top of the filing cabinet that I sometimes watch while I'm on the 'puter is still running so I can still watch if I really need to or watch dvds on the 'puter. If I had any dvds. This is not a tragedy, just an irritation.
This year has been the revolt of the machines, starting with my old computer just about this time last year. It's all right, though. They are only things. I know some human beings who are in trouble right now and that's much worse than losing things.
I do so hate to shop, though.
Question of the day: Do you suppose the people at the Style network realized beforehand that their cable abbreviation would be STY? Seems kind of appropriate in a way.