Accidental 3-D (in Technicolor!)

A fate worth lotsa tears, our TV recently went wonky. Three images: one blue, one red, one I don't know what you'd call it. 

Online "experts" said to fix the color convergence. I did that and it was still wonky. I tried getting more technical. I Googled "Wonky TV" and it led me to weird porn.

Here's the deal, I'm pretty dang sure these online "experts" are the same schmucks that sold us our refrigerator of an eighteen-year-old TV.

Blame it on Best Buy. One of the last mega-stores to have more clerks than customers (and just try and find one when you actually need one!), it's hard-sell city.
When my wife and I went shopping there, lo, those many years ago, the blue shirts were on us like a zombie invasion.

"Here's what you need," said Brian, "top of the line, bang-up model with the best hi-def image possible. Don't know about hi-def? This baby here's redefining the future!"

I was in awe of the TV. Brian's hair, too. Deal-maker. We bought it. (Of course Brian also tried to sell me on gold-plated composite cables--"They improve the picture 100-fold!"--but being no dummy, I opted for the plastic tipped ones).

Huge as a walk-in freezer, you could easily fit three corpses and a bag of chips inside this house of a TV. Awesome! Bigger is always better! And since Best Buy delivered (for an additional thousand dollars or something), double deal-maker!

Two weeks later, after the TV was delivered by griping men, Best Buy's model went half-price, a closeout deal. Technology wiped us off the face of the earth.

Buyer's remorse set in. But I loved the big picture, so I settled.

Until now, it's actually been a good TV. But it's time to shoot it, put it out to pasture. My wife and I have resorted to wearing old-fashioned, paper blue & red 3-D glasses. It works (kinda) with the triple image. But after a while, it's an eye-strain. Plus, my dog thought I was a giant bug and kept growling at me.
 
We bit the bullet, bought a new TV. 

But how in the world do you get rid of the old one? 

Trash men won't take TV's. You can't give 'em away (without some merciless jackass cutting the cord off for the meager copper inside, thus ruining a {fairly} watchable TV for someone else). I'll be surprised if my wife and I can even lift it outta the house.

I asked my wife the obvious, "Hey, what're we gonna do with the old TV?"

"Put it in the garage and put lots and lots of stuff on top of it."

For more life on the weird side, click here for my newest book, Peculiar County.

We went looking for a TV and all we have to show for it is this stupid new house!

Bada-boom. And not really. But almost.

My wife--wise and almighty--told me we should never go shopping while "hangry," a term a candy bar commercial adeptly coined, equating one's hungry physical being with an angry mind-set. Ergo, don't make snap purchases at the grocery store.

Back to pertinent business, recently our TV went blinky, double-vision blue and red. It's fine if you wear those awful 3-D glasses with the impossible to clean and always smudged plastic lenses, but otherwise, unacceptable. 

Sunday afternoon, we set out to ogle new TV's. The modern technology mind-boggled, fossilized me into the prehistoric era. I didn't have a clue, still playing videotapes at home, for Gawd's sake.

Out of desperation, over-whelmed, we quit. Made a promise to research. Just like back in school.

On the way home, we saw a house for sale. "Open House," the sign read, a beguiling treasure trove awaiting we failed hunters. Being no fools, tired, "hangry," disgruntled, we slept-walk inside. And fell in love.

Thankfully, keener senses prevailed. We were in no position yet to buy a new house. (Just thinking about our collection of books and movies throws my back out of whack).

But enlightenment struck that day. Food shopping while hungry is one thing, a minor faux pas. Making major life decisions while your mind belongs elsewhere is another.

"Oblivi-shopping." Remember the word. I'm trademarking it.

Contracts should be enacted while oblivi-shopping. Within a 48 hour time period, buyers of a life-changing purchase should not be held responsible if the following preexisting conditions exist:

*Hunger;
*Irritability;
*Stupidity;
*Sleepiness;
*Drunkeness;
*Hemorrhoids;
*Pregnancy;
*Insanity.

I've made remorseful purchasing decisions under the influence of seven of the eight pre-existing conditions.

It's about time someone started looking out for hungry, irritable, stupid, tired, drunk, hemorrhoid-ridden, and sometimes insane people like me!

Caveat Emptor!