The New TV

The New TV

Have you really noticed how today's televisions are so much thinner and lighter that yesterday's? If you have not, I can safely say you have not replaced a television set recently.

The following events actually occurred. However, there were no witnesses and no documentation verifying what actually happened. This is primarily because the author wanted to disallow all knowledge, just in case, the proposed process ended with injury to body and/or pride.

My wife was leaving for work, that day.

"Honey," after making sure she had my full attention, she continued "that TV is too heavy for us to lift; we need to ask one of the boys for help with it." She said, (for the second day in a row).

"Ok,"

However, I am quite sure everyone knows the extent of the mistake she just made. She had just issued a challenge.

Upon later receiving notification of the arrival of the new television, my excitement immediately overruled my common sense. The challenge was on!

This huge monstrosity of an entertainment system sitting on the television stand just simply had to go. Moreover, it had to go today.

Since I have decided to remove myself from the work force, and somehow earn money from home, the removal task was clearly mine and mine alone.

What followed was something I am calling, the greatest achievement in engineering ingenuity in my lifetime. An achievement that was necessary, of course, because both the television and I were hoping to survive for the posterity of the next generation.

The main problem was that the television set was about 100 pounds more than I could lift, and was nearly 3 feet above where it needed to be (the floor, and out the door).

I had an old homemade dolly, which was four 2x4's nailed together in a square with wheels screwed onto the bottom. It was quite ugly, but I assure you, fully functional. The problem was it still was a long ways from the bottom of the television.

I was not enjoying the vision of the television upside down on the dolly, scratched, dented, and broken. On the other hand, the television upside down on me, scratched, dented and broken was not a nice vision either.

However, I went ahead and brought in the dolly from the garage. The sight of which sent both of our dogs scurrying for cover. Yes, they had seen other stuff like this before.

I stood and stared at the dolly, then turned and stared at the television.

Then I pondered,

Uh uh, I shook my head.

I looked at the base of the television, then at the rather large opening in the middle of the dolly.

Uh uh,

Then I had a sudden flashback. Two years ago, we had our kitchen remodeled.

Following the installation of brand new kitchen cabinets, the cabinet installer approached the homeowner (me).

"Say, we had to cut a piece off that wall unit over there to get it to fit? Do you want to keep the extra piece?"

"Nah, I'd never have a use for that."

"Are you sure, I'm just going to throw it away".

"I don't have anywhere to put it, anyway."

"Sure?" "It was part of the cabinets, you paid for it."

"Here, let me have it." The homeowner's wife finally chimed in. "I know, one day he will wish he'd kept it," she added, effectively ending the conversation.

The piece of cabinet actually fit on the dolly surprisingly nice.

However, the depth of drop still appeared to be an issue.

Like the many great thinkers of the past, I accidently arrived at a solution, when I sat down on it. It was the coffee table.

I pulled the coffee table over to the television stand. Paused, to vacuum up a few indescribable items, which I uncovered on the carpet underneath it.

I disconnected the massive spider web of cables. Then, I ever so gently, eased one side of the television down onto the table. Then, with a not so gentle nudge, I pushed from the other side, until the base slid across the tabletop like lightning. (Since I had failed to put anything down on the table to protect from scratching)

"Success!" I exclaimed. "Phase 1 was complete!"

Now I was ready for phase 2. With the dolly firmly resting against the couch so it would not roll away on me, I gently put one corner of the television onto a very useful leftover piece of a cabinet. I carefully tilted the television to allow it to side onto the dolly. Then let out a sigh of relief that was loud enough to wake the napping dogs.

Moving on to phase 3, I placed the coffee table back in its normal resting place. I then began to push the dolly-TV combo unit toward the door. However, I stopped suddenly, realizing that only part of the combo was actually moving. The piece of cabinet seemed to have a much slicker, smoother surface than I was aware. The television was inches away from imminent disaster. Changing my angle of attack helped little, as I appeared to have a larger issue.

Was this dolly ever used on shag carpeting?

The newly modified attack angle found me on my knees, hands under the television on the dolly itself, instead of the television. I was literally crawling toward the garage as I pushed.

A sight, I am sure, that was very disturbing to watch.

A sight made even more disturbing, once my pants started lowering by themselves. Nevertheless, with determined conviction, through the house I went.

I jumped up in celebration, and my pants fully dropped, but I had reached my destination.

Fortunately, the modern technology that brings us lighter weight televisions has not been able to allow us to communicate with those of the canine persuasion. My secret was safe.

The new, much easier to move television was quickly unboxed, cables connected, and sitting high atop its stand. The screen was fully ablaze with high definition color, when my wife walked in the door.

Her face was brightly beaming with a unique mixture of amazement and pleasure.

She was nearly speechless.

"Wow" was the only thing that escaped her lips.

Then the amazement subsided and she coolly turned to me.

"Where's the old TV?"

Bursting with tremendous pride, I smiled and pointed in the direction of the garage. I thought I could see the word "how" form on her lips, but then for some reason she suppressed it. She just sat down next to me, gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Nice job."

Later I asked her if she would like to know how the television got back there.

"Not really."

I am thinking that perhaps we both gained something from this little experience.