I got the HD a few months ago. I had an HD antenna and it delivered great picture, though sometimes it would cut out, like antennas do, especially when the weather was bad. Then when I moved, for whatever reason, my TV got hooked up to a standard definition cable box. I didn't want to complain about it, but it brought about a bit of sadness. SD on an HDTV is just sad, like a puppy with a broken leg.
So when I finally got the full-blown HD cable box hooked up to my beautiful HDTV, it was like the puppy was cured and started crapping beautiful rainbows. Beautiful high-def rainbows.
As I was flipping through the numerous channels, I stumbled across Leave It To Beaver. Ahh, the good old Beav. I still don't understand why the kid's nickname was Beaver, and why they said it so damn much. But I got sucked in, mostly out of a morbid curiosity for the fifties sentimentality people seem to long for. You know, things like racism and child abuse that were just so darn funny back then. Anyway, the point is, I got sucked in.
My roommate came home; he knew the cable box had come and wanted to check in on it. He came in the my room to ask very excitedly "how's the new cable box?" and he stopped short to look at the TV. I was just as enthusiastic about it. "Great, the picture is--oh, well, I guess Leave It To Beaver isn't the best--"
"Yeah, I don't think you're really taking full advantage of the HD technology. If I would have known you were itching to watch shows that existed before color, I might not have tried so hard to get you the HD box."
We actually had a pretty good hardy laugh over it. I was using my new HD cable box to catch up on reruns of Leave It To Beaver. This morning: The Dick Van Dyke Show.. Or, The
No comments:
Post a Comment