Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Way to a Man's Heart is Through a Flat Screen?!

The last minute spontaneous Christmas gift for Milk Man is a small flat screen for our bedroom. Although we've had the same television in the den for the past ten years, a great big technological dinosaur box, it is still being assaulted by crayons and finger smudges. Therefore, it will be several more years before Milk Man gets his dream come true, a den that is transformed into a mini-theatre with the biggest flat screen you've ever seen.
I've asked myself so many times the same question, and I just can not figure out the answer. What exactly is the magical fascination with a flat screen television? Do men have some kind of flat screen television sensitivity in their brains? Does it click off a happy hormone? It's a TV. You're staring at plastic and glass. ??? I say this to the salesman in Best Buy as I look at a 19" flat screen with a built-in DVD player, on sale.

"The picture is pristine, it's sleek and excellent quality for the price." He says, spontaneously sharing that his love for flat screens inspired him to take a seasonal job with Best Buy.

I shrug. "So, what. I'm all that too. It's a freaking television." I say.

The salesman laughs. He's probably younger than I, a reality I'm not sure I totally accept as I approach yet another 29th birthday.
"Um, maybe, but this baby comes with a remote control, and YOU sure don't." He says, and still makes a sale, because despite his "joke" I've already made up my mind.

I still don't understand what's so magical about a flat screen TV, but I buy one anyway for Milk Man, because he's brought home the milk diligently all year, and is an excellent 1930's husband according to an Internet poll. You should see him open it. He's pumping his fists. Then he scurries upstairs with the box, and a bunch of screwdrivers. (The tools, not the drink.) The television is installed in about three seconds, and he's all sprawled out with the remote control in hand, with a big grin on his face, channel surfing. "I'll be watching television all the time up here now." He announces to no one in particular. He might be talking to the remote.

Baby Bigfoot talks to his toy remote. It has eyeballs that blink and it laughs like cookie monster if you press the right button. Like father, like son.
----Here I am removing the "adult-proof" packaging from toys with a hatchet and a Radial Arm Saw. (Not really, I'm just cynical.)

6 comments:

Putz said...

it sounds like you need a shoulder to cry on....men, my son in particular is into blue ray, big screen and his poor wife is in to people, outings, and it is going to be a problem, i am into people and could care less abouyt a big flat screen, and although i sympathize{poor loren] I DON'T KNOW HOW TO HELP YOU

Elizabeth Kathryn Gerold-Miller said...

I'm sure my husband didn't understand why I needed a mixer as heavy as a small tractor, but he finally managed to get me my Kitchen Aid! After all the Christmas baking was done and I'm too tired to make anything else, of course!

Anonymous said...

As a guy with his mind fixated on a 60-inch flat screen/Blu-Ray/home theater set-up for our new basement, I really can't say why. I think we men are hardwired to love gadets big and small (though there are a few men with odd DNA mutations that aren't into things like this). TVs represent one of the ultimate big gadgets we can own...

GT

Anonymous said...

Oh, and of course your last comment comparing Milk Man to Baby Bigfoot certainly highlights the saying: "The only difference between men and boys is the size of their toys."

Good stuff :)

GT

Loren Christie said...

Don't cry for me, Mr. Putz, I got myself an Ipod for my b-day, so now I can listen to audio books while the milk man is gazing at his beloved flat screen. Ah, the bliss of married life.

Elizabeth, what color is you're mixer?! So exciting. (I'm completely serious.)

You caught me in the cynical comparison, GT. It must have something to do with me being a classified Boston Creme Donut.

Elizabeth Kathryn Gerold-Miller said...

Martha Stewart's Signature Aqua Blue. It's just a shade off the color of my kitchen - I might have to repaint! I think I might make some mashed potatoes with it tonight.

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Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.

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