Well I am back in business. My TV, iPad, and phone captioning are operating again after a tech outage of a day. I felt like I was living next to the Flintstones and Wilma was knocking on my door to borrow my platypus to take her grocery list to the local store.
I hope all Pundit fans had a great Christmas. My kids gave me a sinfully huge television. My electric world just got bigger.
Then the cruel hand of “gotcha” entered my small apartment at Oxmoor Lodge.
In one fell swoop of unbelievable misfortune, my new television screen decided it would show me nothing but SNOW. No button I pushed (my first mistake) would bring it back. Shortly after this fatality, my trusted iPad decided it would join the television to inflict more pain and suffering. I really thought it was a bit of overkill.
What next, you ask? Here it is: I have a caption phone. When I get a call, the conversation is displayed on a small screen and I can read it – it is great for deaf people. My hearing went south over the last year; I think it went so fast it skipped over Key West and headed for Cuba.
Now my captioning got on the same plane south.
So there I sat. I thought, “Ain’t this electronic world amazing?!?” When I was growing up I had to pay ten cents on Saturday afternoon to see a moving picture, I had to actually write with paper and pen, put it in a stamped envelope and send it on its way. When you were deaf if you even had a phone you could not hear the conversation.
Well, friends, life is pretty good with all its glitches. The list of my worries during quarantine were:
1. Will my TV get fixed before Victor and Nikki split up again, or, who really shot Carmine; Fen, or his mom or dad?
2. Will my iPad get fixed in time to play “Words” with my opponents?
3. That I won’t be able to hear when Publishers’ Clearing House calls to tell me I won $5,000 a week for life.
That’s OK, I told myself. I have already experienced more wonderful events then I ever expected: most of them without television, my iPad or a caption phone.
But here’s one final thought that tells the truth. When the kids are driving you bonkers, yelling and running through the house, your spouse is yelling, “Where are my socks?” and your mother-in-law reminds you that she always laid his clothes out for him, don’t scream, “I want some peace and quiet, quiet, quiet!” Believe me you don’t. I sat here in “quiet” for about eighteen hours until the television man came and the snow went away, my iPad started pinging to let me know someone had sent me a message, and the telephone started ringing. They were all beautiful sounds. Remember – be sure of what you wish for because you just might get it!