I may not be the brightest tube that years ago needed a few minutes to warm up to light up my television screen, but I thought I knew my way around my DISH Network satellite dish. Right off you can tell my background in electronics started many, many up-grades ago. A television tube is a lovely antiquated glass thing that in today’s world is heavier than even an 80-inch super-duper flat screen TV. But! Yes, a lovely antiquated “but.” I am no match for anything on my roof. Here’s my sad tale of woe.
Excitement had reached a fevered pitch when my neighbor, the one that lives just a few farms and fields and maybe 8 miles away. Uh as the crow flies. He volunteered to put a roof over my deck out back so that the snow would never be of concern to me again. Hurray. A deal was struck and the work began one fine sunny warm, 50-degree December day. It was determined there was a 4 or 5 day window to build the new roof before the next snowstorm was to blow in. I was excited.
I wouldn’t say I’m addicted to my television, I just like the background noise. So, on the second day when my DISH Network satellite was disconnected because it sat right in the middle of the new roof, I wasn’t worried. I still have a regular antenna and a computer and a radio. And of course, if all else fails I can sing. NOT! Go ahead I thought, on the second day when the wind came up and the coats came out, yes go ahead and unplug me from the world of Law & Order and The Game Show Network. I’ll just put in a call and schedule the DISH guy to pop on over and reset the cute little round gray thing now laying on the grass under my dining room window.
The first thing is to call and schedule a technician to come to the outer most recesses of Nevada to re-attach my little friend to my roof. I can hear you laughing at the thought of the call. Every giggle I am imagining has a distinct dialect to it. But “Reah,” I think that was the name she was using, was quite delightful as she charged me, up front, $50 for a guy to come out into my air space in about 10-14 days to bring my television back to life before I go completely nuts-o. I’m now on a schedule somewhere with a technical guy in — Las Vegas! Mr. Las Vegas is scheduled to arrive, kind of like a mall Santa Clause, around noon to 5 p.m. on December 20th. Yes, December 20th. Today in case you are wondering is December 6th. The snow on the level here should be about up to the poor guy’s Bermuda shorts buy then!
In my neck of the woods, we’re lucky to still be able to get television reception with a regular antenna. I was luckier yet, when a few years ago I was asked if I wanted to get rid of my antiquated antenna connection, I said, “NOOO!” I have learned, like many of my friend Ruralite-ers have, that once you have something in place you hardly EVER just ditch it for something newer and shinier. It took me more years than there are Twinkies in the family sized box you buy from Costco, to finally let my HUGE satellite dish be taken down and hauled off. I still sometimes miss that Big Guy and his shiny aluminum face beckoning me to go inside and watch yet another re-run of Magnum PI. I’ll just have another Twinkie to ease my loss. Some of us women are like that you know. Yes, men too.
Time has a way of teaching us many things. My big one is, “know your limitations Machacek.” Watching activity from inside my home as the new roof began to appear, although fun to watch, drove me crazy. I am a very hands-on gal. Watching instead of hammering and using that skill saw! Oh, POWER TOOLS! At first was breaking my heart. Then I realized this. Of all the things over the years when we hired someone, our promise to them was to never ask them to do anything we wouldn’t or couldn’t do ourselves. Now? Yikes! Seeing the guys outside, standing on the edge of death as they laugh and jab at each other to cut, pound, reach, measure and build? I’ve been in septic tanks, dug post holes with my shovel, and built buildings. Now it’s my time to watch. I also know not to go out to offer any help. Crumb, they might say, “Yes.”
Trina lives in Diamond Valley, north of Eureka, Nevada. Her crazy funny books are available at www.theeurekacountystar.com or email@example.com