I am quick to say that I don’t watch much tv. I think tv is more often a habit than anything else. Aside from most things PBS (my equivalent to cable), I watch few programs: Ellen for the simple, hardy belly laughs, Grey’s Anatomy for the characters and Brother & Sisters for the family relationships. Oh, and Nightline — something I have been a fan of for many years; even prior to the platform change.
TV is mostly background noise for me. If my house is too quiet, the dogs will hear things that are miles away and get distracted by it. Generally the background noise is music. I plug the iPod into the stereo dock on my way to the coffee pot each morning, usually select the option to shuffle the songs and let it run until bedtime. As though that is not enough, I sometimes go to bed with the iPod plugged into my head. I select an album to play to slow my brain and generally fall asleep before it’s done.
A few days ago, I tried to turn the tv on, but no luck. Nothing happened. Was it the hairball on top of the tv causing the problem? I tried a few things, walked away confused, returned to try a couple more things and again walked away confused. However, after a brainfart, I think I may know the answer. I think the same cat barfed a hairball into the digital tuner thereby shorting out any digital service to my tv. Damn!
I went to WalMart yesterday looking for a new tuner, but they don’t sell them anymore. Don’t sell them anymore? They were stocked in huge piles months ago (or was that a year ago?) just before the conversion to digital tv and now it’s like it never happened. They suggested a few places I might check, but I didn’t have the time yesterday to chase “mights.” So I am home again and tv-less. Perhaps I can keep up with what I like via the computer.
When you live with animals, you can quickly realize how unimportant most material things are (except for my iPod and my computer). Years ago, one of my dogs, Brie, found that the glue in the binding of some very old books was very tasty. She chewed it from the backs of 3-4 books printed in the 1920s. They were from a collection my mother had as a child. It was the complete collection and they WERE in mint condition.
Once eaten, there is little you can do but utter a few choice words under your breath and move them. And so it goes here at the bit-by-bit ranch… it’s always something.
What do you think?