New TV makes Christmas merry

By Patricia Mycek Sumpter

Dear Folks,

Fall is my all-time favorite season especially when big ticket items are on sale. After 10 years our television decided to start acting up so off we went to purchase a new one (versus an old one, ha, ha). It only took a matter of seconds for Jack to tell the saleslady which television he wanted. Usually this is a purchase that would take Jack hours to dwell over and to analyze one feature over another. I told him I couldn't believe how quickly he made up his mind this time. Then the truth comes out.

While we were home for Labor Day Jack went shopping with Dan, so, voila, the choice was made. How convenient for Jack. We drive seven hours back to Illinois together and he never said a word that sounded like TV.

We get this monster of a TV and it takes Jack almost all day to assemble the table it is going to sit on for the rest of its life. Then by 6 p.m. he is ready to install the television. I help him lift the darn thing -- for which you should have a crane if OSHA was coming to watch us work -- and hold it in place while he screws the TV to the bracket. He plugs in all these colored wires and only calls Dan three times because some things were not working according to plan. Then on comes the picture. What a sight to behold. I can guarantee it will not take long to get used to the big picture.

After four or five days of the big picture Jack tells me if we get Dish or Direct TV our picture would be clearer. This man has an angle for everything. Besides talking with Dan again he is now talking with the fellows at work about picture clarity, Dish, Direct, HD, football channel, basketball channel and whatever other channels are off the satellite up in space.

Go ahead Jack I give up, get what you think will work for you. He orders up his Dish and takes a half day off work for the guy to come and install our package. I almost felt obligated to invite the man to supper because he was there when I got home from work. I went to a meeting and came home to still see him sitting on the couch flipping through channels with Jack.

So I sit at the computer to play Pathwords (has it been a month yet?) and this fellow is saying, now m'am do this and this to get this and click here to do this and the whole time I am saying okay, yes I see, sure sounds good etc...when all I want to do is tell him to go home and leave me alone because I am busy.

Finally he leaves and we have some peace and quiet. I read the pamphlet on working the controller and the DVR. Jack watches me, then gives me the installer's condensed version of what to do. Let's face it, husbands should not try to teach their wives to cook, play cards, use the buttons on the car dashboard, or how to use the TV remote, clicker, flicker or changer. I do not care what you call it just do not try to teach me how to use it!

I have now taken over ownership of the controller; it is on my side of the living room. Yes, I am in control of the living room universe. Channel 112, HGTV, I love that channel at least 95 percent of the time. Jack hates it, too bad. It has been so nice to be able to read the scrolling messages at the bottom of the screen. It has been so nice to be able to read the questions from "Millionaire." It is so nice to have a picture that is as clear and sharp as it can be.

Only one weekend goes by. It was a weekend of finding football games and more football games, college and pro. I wanted to watch the U.S. Open Tennis matches and I did but in the bedroom on the old television. What is wrong with this picture? Where is my remote? Sunday night when Jack goes to bed the remote is mine again. I need to find a good hiding place for my remote. After playing let's hide the remote from each other for a week I find a solution. We order another remote. That was just too easy but the perfect solution. We are now back on an even playing field.

Since I considered this purchase a big ticket item and we are both happy I guess I can say, "Merry Christmas Jack and Patty."

Merry Christmas to all in my favorite hometown.

Patty