February 2, 2002
9:23 PM
TV watcher's in the big league now
 I'm chomping
at the bit to begin today's column, but first I have some business to take care of, and
that is to admit to a couple of errors in my two previous columns, which were pointed out
to me by someone I irritated:
1. A large bag of popcorn at the cinemas costs $5,
not $6.
2. The Milan Showcase Cinemas never had 13 screens,
only 11.
With that out of the way, today's column now begins:
Did you know that the proper viewing distance for a
36-inch television set is 11 feet?
Until recently, I didn't know that, either, but I am
finding such information vitally important ever since my wife and I learned we had won
such a set.
This news came as quite a shock to us because we are
not what you'd call the winning type. Over the past 15 years, we have entered raffles for
turkeys, SUVs, groceries, fishing lures, houses, houseboats and mountain bikes. We have
tried to win shrubbery, microwave ovens, computers, snowblowers, electric toothbrushes and
a year's supply of Tide. We have willingly provided intimate personal information in our
desire to win free lawn chemicals, hair conditioner, diaper service and Camp Jellystone
vacations.
Through all of this, the only thing we ever have won
is a Gatorade sports towel -- and technically, our son won it, but we considered it ours
because it made us feel better. Plus, our son was a minor, so we had him on legal grounds.
So needless to say, we were quite thrilled when we
received a phone call informing us about the TV. We were home, preparing to go to bed,
completely oblivious that our TV-viewing habits hung in the balance, when the call came
from a bowling alley where the drawing had been held -- which proved to us the truth of
the old saying, ``Need not be present to win.''
Now, to many people, a 36-inch television is no big
deal. These people are known as the people with big TVs. But to the little-TV people, a
group to which I formerly belonged, a 36-inch TV can be difficult to comprehend at first.
For example, after arriving at the bowling alley, I was directed to ``pick up'' my prize
in the lounge, where I saw that they had the Oakland Raiders-New England Patriots football
game playing on one of those huge TVs typically found in bars. The thing was, this wasn't
the bar's TV -- it was mine.
Now the point of sharing all of this is not to say,
in so many words, ``Ha! Ha! I won a TV! A big fat TV!!'' So in case you are thinking
that's what I'm up to, you are mistaken. For I know that there are two types of people who
enter raffles: Those who win, and those who hate those who win.
I do not wish to make you hate me, at least not any
more than you already do, particularly if you happen to be one of the several hundred
unlucky persons who bought a raffle ticket from the Rock Island Red Sox organization but
did not win.
Now that we have that settled, can I continue with
my story?
OK.
So these two big guys carry the TV out to my van; it
barely fits in; and then I am asked to be in a photograph. I agree and try to look natural
while I pose with my arm around a television I didn't pay for in a parking lot at 11:30
p.m.
So as you can see, winning a home appliance can be a
disturbing experience.
In closing, I would like to make the following
perfectly clear:
1. Cinemas, shminemas.
2. I have a big new TV! And to view it properly, we
must sit in the hallway.
3. But that's OK, because it has a feature called
``Hyper Sound,'' a phenomenon we formerly only associated with our children, but which on
the TV can be completely controlled depending on whether we want the studio audience to be
in the studio or in our living room!
4. I will never forget the little-TV people.
5. I know you hate me.
6. The Rock Island Red Sox is a wonderful
organization.
Joe Payne is editor of Life. His e-mail
address isjoepayne@qconline.com
Copyright 2002, Moline Dispatch Publishing Co. |
