After 13 years of faithful service, our old television recently retired to the green pastures of its electronic homeland where it was mercifully shot in the back of its TV brain. In its stead, Bridgette and I purchased a new
reason for living 40-inch television.
As you can see in this picture, the television features 1080p high definition resolution, a stylish mount, and the ability to babysit two young children. To this point, Oliver’s main reaction to the new television has been to tell us whether it is on or off and to demand the return of our old TV. To this I mumbled an absentminded response and continued staring transfixed at the new television’s brilliant display.
Perhaps paradoxically, we still don’t have cable or satellite, and have no intention of getting either. Our new television is used for watching over-the-air broadcasts of local stations, as well as old UHF favorites like the channels that broadcast Catholic mass or creepy cut-rate children’s programming. However, when viewed on a beautiful 40-inch LCD screen, the priestly vestments look positively radiant and high-resolution close-ups of the octogenarian laity droning their somnolent responses in the liturgical prayer crackle with vitality. Who needs the orange-skinned buffoonery on Bravo when this other stuff out there for free?
Thanks to our new television, our home has at last become a place of safe, nurturing love. Whatever the programming, its warm, brilliant glow is the hearth we gather around to create memories and meaning. We now begin our days with the promising pop of its power button, and retire for the night after genuflecting reverently before it and placing its remote control in a velvet sheath.
The world is now a more just, less boring place. On this Memorial Day, I offer a heartfelt salute to you, Magnavox Corporation.