Due to the recent haboob and electrical storms, my TV went to live with Jesus. Even though I rarely watch the idiot box and I do have several others scattered in other rooms, I decided to replace this dead one in my family room. Now, I don’t know anything about televisions, nor technology. I don’t care how they work, I don’t want to know anything about pixels, or any other crap I don’t understand. On and off, volume up and down, and channel change is enough for me. I don’t care about OLED, QLED, nor XYZ, etc. Size, price, online ordering with free delivery were my only criteria.
When I ordered one, I chose not to pay the hefty fee for setup and programming. Hell, any teenager would gladly do that for a Ben Franklin. And along came a brilliant young guy, who graciously unpacked the box and set up the boob tube in less than 20 minutes!
“Here’s the remote. I’m not sure it works because I couldn’t figure out how to put in the AAA batteries.”
“Sue, the remote has a solar cell. Just keep it in the light.”
“But what if it’s dark?”
“Plug it in the charger.”
“What if I want to watch Thursday Murder Club? How do I type it in?” Oops, I saw him roll his eyes; he knew he was dealing to an old technically-challenged immigrant.
“Sue, it’s easy. See this icon? It looks like a microphone. Press it down, and speak clearly. You can say ‘Bixby or Alexa, Thursday Murder Club, and it will appear. Here. You try.”
“Well, I’ll be damned! There it is.”
And once again, this old broad learned a new trick. Happy Labor Day.
Dr. Suze Espouses 