Resistance is futile

About two months ago, our TV started to change the color of the image and shrink the picture at will. And maybe if it was feeling persnickety, it might decide not to turn on at all until it teased us with a flicker of image and snippet of sound before blinking off. Pressing the remote power button on and off and on and off and on and off proved futile in the face of TV defiance as clearly the power was being controlled by the fickle idiot box. Finally, after more desperate pressing of the power button, a full sized color image would appear with sound. Until the manic machine decided there had been enough television watching in our house for the day and the screen would go black without any warning and refuse to turn on again for several hours. We dealt with this idiosyncratic behavior, cursing with every effort to engage the power, periodically bumping and slapping the box with the same vigor one would use on a pinball machine reaching for that free play.

And then the machine got tired of our abuse and left us with silent darkness.

This was not so terrible, I found. The constant noise in the background was gone and there was blessed quiet. No more maniacal laughter from that stupid Spongebob Squarepants. Books were read by our children, discussions were more vigorous and engaging. Intertwined laughter was heard in all rooms. Games were played. And then the siblings bickering began.

Then the spare television from my In-Law's house made its way into the living room and the background noise began again. This was baseball season still, after all, and divisional championship games had to be watched. So does Spongebob, as this is what I can hear from the box as I type this. I now know why it is named Spongebob. Because it sucks up all the brain matter of those who watch it. Those sly bastards.

The loaner TV is smaller than the set we had and the discussions soon turned to the purchase of a larger flat panel television. The lure of larger, crisper, Hi Def images became too much to resist and the research of which brand, LCD vs. Plasma and where to buy such an item began in earnest. We took the trips to BestBuy and Circuit City, staring at walls of flat panel screens so overwhelming I felt my brain shut down in defense. We listened to audio visual geeks and clueless salespeople discuss pixel resolution, 120 vs 480 MHz (whatever that is) and the merits of glossy vs. matte screens. We looked at the clarity and brightness of different brands and sizes in an effort to narrow our choice down in a sea of flashing color screens. And finally settled on the one we wanted.

The prices were comparable between the big box stores so there was no big struggle there. SuperHubby's company has an employee benefits program that offers discounts at one of the larger big box stores, so we decided to get it through that channel toward the end of the year, when prices are a bit lower.

On a complete lark we stopped at the local Sears, mostly because my sister had told me sometimes the prices are better there. My sensory overload at this point was such that I was sure if I looked at one more TV my eyes would leak from my head, I cautiously stepped into the electronics dept. And there it was, the same set, $200 dollars less than anywhere else, plus 10% off with free delivery.

It arrives later this month. Some things just cannot be resisted.