The Saga of the Dead Cable Box

This has been a tough week.  Please, bear with me while I whine.  Thanks.

Shortly after I returned home from Mom’s house, I saw that my TV wouldn’t stay turned on.  That’s odd, I thought.  But I already trouble-shot a bunch of other troubles with this TV.   I bought it used for a couple of hundred dollars, and with me, the little darling put in a bunch of time.  That TV was a very early flat screen, which was then mounted in a TV case — the kind needs a lot of room in the back.  I didn’t have too hard a time getting maintenance to carry it out for me, and off to recycling it went,

I lived a couple of days without TV, but eventually I got awfully weighed down, not having PBS, CNN or AlJazeira playing in the background.  I also missed my favorite cosmology series, movies, everything else that connects me to the outside while I am writing.  Plus, I love watching movies on TV — curl up with an blanket and a bowl of popcorn, and a great sci-fi B-movie, or a well-cast Adventure/Action production.  No matter how much the intellectual I think I am, I am as accustomed to having a TV in my life, and I don’t always function well without it.

The cable box I’d been using for a couple of years was flat-lined..  I called Comcast, and they said they would ship a new box after the Veterans’ Day weekend.  That was on a Friday, and I received the box on the next Tuesday.  Great, I thought.  Finally, after reading the directions about four times, and memorizing the schematic of coaxial cables connecting the box, the TV, DVD player and an old VHS machine, I set the new box up.

I got some popcorn and a blanket, both intended to do exactly what they always do — make me feel really warm and snuggly.  I pushed the button, and the system worked, for about 3 minutes.  It then died again.  This began to feel like a last straw situation.  I made a rash decision, called Comcast, and told them I was dropping their service in favor of a smaller company, with whom I had very good luck before I switched.  This time, the agent who took the call was highly motivated to keep me with them.  After only minor wrangling, he scheduled a service call and finally decided that they would pick up the expense.  He told me to be home Saturday, between 8:00 and noon.  When I called them at noon, they said to wait until 2:00.  I thought that was odd, but maybe I made a mistake.  I started my tear-my-house-to-pieces phase until 2:00, when I called once more and got a recorded message saying be home between 3:00 and 5:00.  I was angry, to say the least — maybe the last beautiful warm day, and I spent it sitting around and waiting.   The serviceman arrived at quarter past four.

He was polite and pleasant, and he figured out in about two minutes that the power cord was the problem.  He replaced it,  and voila — my problem was solved.

To the sane people of the world, this doesn’t sound like such a big deal, but I felt as though I had fought a war.  Along with this problem, I recently went through my big box of pictures, and threw away all but six of them.  I learned another important lesson, but I am saving that for later.

So, my blood sugar is better, my diet is good, and I am climbing stairs and pedaling every day.  I have my Science Channel and my movies, and the house purge continues.  But it was a difficult week, and I am going back over to Mom’s for a week on Tuesday, a week with the kitties.  Hopefully a change of venue will bring a change in perspective. I think I earned it.

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