Thursday, December 30th, 2010

I was trying to get our flat-screen TV to work without the remote, but it had no visible means of control that I could tell, but that couldn’t be. Why would they even make a TV that didn’t have some way to at least turn it on without a remote? So I looked all over the front, then turned it around to look all over the back, then I picked it up and began an inch by inch search of the bottom, the sides and the top, because there just had to be an on button somewhere. And while I was juggling it in the air over my head, it came on.

Now, how did I do that?

It took a while, but I finally found them: Tiny little bumps along the right-hand side of the frame, each no bigger than a grain of salt, as if there was a sadistic bastard in the design department who had purposely designed them to be as hard to find as possible. Each little bump was labeled with a tiny little pictogram to indicate what it was supposed to do. The bottom one had the one-zero universal symbol for on/off. When I tapped it with my finger, the TV blinked off, and when I tapped it again, the TV … stayed off.

Tap! Still off.

Tap! Nope, still off.

Tap! Tap! Tap! (Dammit!) Tap! There! It came on again! And it stayed on long enough for me to play with the other buttons and discover that they gave me access to the menus for the signal source, the volume, the color and hue, and … Dammit! I accidentally touched the on/off button, turning it off.

Tap! Still off.

Tap!

Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!Tap!Tap!Tap!Tap! Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!

Wouldn’t you know it? The one button that doesn’t work well is the on/off switch. This went on forever. I let the damn thing mess with me much longer than a normal person would have, because I wasn’t going to walk away before I’d at least learned how to select the signal source to see if it worked with the DVD player. And I even managed eventually to get it to show me a picture, but at the cost of raising my blood pressure at least ten points. Later, after I calmed down enough to see straight again, I shot an e-mail plea to our very own T-Dawg, who almost magically appeared the next day to present us with a remote, so now I don’t have to cuss at the TV any more. I probably will, anyway. It’s what I do.

Tap dance | 5:50 am CDT
Category: daily drivel | Tags:
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