What is it with men and technology? Seriously....
So we've finally decided to emerge from the Dark Ages of giant, bulky, two-foot deep big-screens and purchase a flat-screen TV. Well, my husband has decided. I'm perfectly happy with my hulking monstrosity of a television set that currently occupies one-third of our family room. I mean, it still works. It turns on and off and serves as a competent babysitter for my children when I need to check my email or fold the never-ending laundry or, ahem, blog.
But lately my husband has been poring over Crutchfield catalogues, his eyes glazing over as he flips through the pages featuring heroine-chic TV sets, TV sets that look like all they've had to eat all day are cigarettes and Tab.
He has his heart set on some model that can do everything but cook and clean my house. He showed it to me online (on his Iphone, which is a whole other blog), the expectant look on his face so adorable as he waited for me to be as jazzed about the Hertz, the Pixels, the rate of return on its 401(k), its favorite movie. And to be fair, it looks pretty cool. But for God's sake, as long as it's color and doesn't come with rabbit ears, I'm happy.
The following is an actual conversation about the TV in question between my husband and me....
Jeff: I'm thinking we should get the 8000 model.
Jeff: I mean, the 7000 would be okay, except that it doesn't have the same megahertz and you can't get on the internet.
Me: We can get the internet on our TV?
Jeff: Well, on the 8000 we can.
Me: But we have a laptop.
Jeff: Well yeah....
Me: What else can it do?
Jeff: Its refresh rate is 240 Megahertz.
Me (not having the slightest idea what the hell that means): Okay.
Jeff: Plus it can...he launches into a very technical description of the innate intelligence of the 8000 model, making it sound like it can outthink our own son and will soon replace our 10-year-old dog in the family hierarchy.
Jeff: But I don't know....we don't really need all that stuff.
Jeff: But it's only an inch thick.
Me: Whatever you want, Hon.
So after much hand-wringing, vacillating between exactly which model he wanted, the 6000, the 7000 or the Triple Lindy 500,000, he finally ordered one. And while I guess it would be nice to not have a TV set the size and shape of a Fotomat booth in my house, I have found myself much more interested in what type of TV stand should go beneath it. And how to rearrange the kitchen table so Rollie will still be able to watch Zooboomafoo while he eats lunch.