This is a true story. And the only reason you’re reading about it is because it’s been resolved.
Let me start it by saying Joe is sitting in front of our new 55-inch Samsung flat screen television watching last night’s episode of Lost. The look of contentment on his face is something neither I, nor any other human, is capable of evoking. It is a Cheshire cat grin basked in the glow of a very expensive machine mounted four feet off the ground. It is the look of sweet relief usually seen on the faces of mothers, who after hours of labor, reach out to cradle their newborn babies. For Joe it is a state of solace only fiber optic cables transmitting a HD signal could offer.
It is a whale of a TV, so sharp and un-pixalated that my brain can barely discern what’s happening for real in my living room, from what’s happening inside the LCD panel hanging on my wall. Of course it does nothing for me. Of course I balked at the purchase. Of course I wanted a kayak instead. At $1,600, I whined that we could get two kayaks for the price of one TV. But since my husband has agonized over this purchase since the day we met, I knew it was only a matter of time before we drilled a dozen holes in our wall and attempted to heft a 70-lb. television onto a metal bracket, oblivious as to whether or not we hit studs.
The man really, really loves his TV.