a fond farewell to a loved one...
This past Saturday, Geo and I were taking advantage of the last beautiful weekend of Fall to clean up the yard, put away the deck furniture and of course, fight about it all. Every couple, no matter how content, has at least one bone-of-contention issue which rears its ugly, monster-like head quarterly. Our personal Cyclops centers around stuff--namely, his freaking stuff in my frelling way! Can I hear an Amen from all the sisters.
In my defense, I was not the least bit snarky when I inquired if I could toss the empty, gi-normous box which contained the drive-in-movie screen sized monitor we bought for our Mac. Honestly. There was no venom spewed in the asking. Geo, however, misread my intention and proceeded to get a tiiiiny bit defensive. And by "tiny bit" I mean he gave me the skunk eye and short answer routine for the rest of the clean up. We were starting to warm up to each other again when it happened...
Our dear, beloved JVC 27" picture-in-picture television....died.
We were stunned. It happened so suddenly. In the morning, it was healthy. The image bright and vibrant. A skad four hours later--darkness. Over the course of our long, lustrous relationship, we have survived many emotional challenges--infertility, fraternal deaths, which way to squeeze the toothpaste tube. But by far the greatest cause of discord in our marriage has been Geo's very male inability to watch a commercial break. I don't know if this whole need to cruise the channels is an ancient caveman instinct to hunt, or just the fear that somewhere, on some cable channel, there are nekked boobies and he's missing it. Whatever the reason, his tardiness to return to our original show caused enormous strife and constant argument.
Then redemption was delivered to our door in a four foot cube. A bright, shiny television with two tuners. Now while watching a program we could monitor other stations (usually some sort of sporting event) or cue up a tape for viewing next or..or ... The possibilities were endless. Geo was free to cruise away as long as our program was in the picture-in-picture. No more arguments. There was joy in Mudville. Seriously, the inventor of P-I-P should have received the Nobel Peace Prize.
So a toast to you, our dear departed friend. You have served us well over the past eleven years. You were the stemmer of strife, the purveyor of peace and the harbinger of happy viewing. And even though we have a new sleek and sassy replacement, you will always hold a cherished place of honor in our hearts. Rest in peace.