I started pressing buttons haphazardly, frantically. I did all the usual things. Made sure it was set to channel three. I made sure the box was on. I made sure the cable was screwed in tight. I pressed buttons I’d never used before. Some of them seem decorative. What does the green one do? Nothing?
I needed to know a couple of (literally and figuratively) pressing questions: What button got pressed? How do I fix this? Did they kill Agent Fitz? Was he replaced by a robot?
I spent several days without the television, on my own little island of the uninformed. I was the Robinson Crusoe of pop culture. A conversation at work went like this:
“Did you catch ‘Modern Family’ last night?”
“No. I am not watching television these days.”
“Did you give it up for Lent?”
“Nope. I hit a button.”
Several days later, my brother guided me through the problem over the phone. I had to click on the main menu, scroll down and activate the HDMI. It took several steps. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how the television got so lost on its own. That must have been some wicked fall from my lap to the floor. I’m not that tall, especially when sitting.
I never thought this would happen. Televisions have gotten too complicated for me. Suddenly, you need a remote to turn it on, a remote to change the channel, a remote for the DVD and a remote for the Roku.
I wanted to connect the living room TV and the bedroom TV to the Roku and was told, “You need a Fire Stick from Amazon.”
I replied, “An Amazonian fire stick? Why does it sound like I’m trying to overthrow the tribe’s shaman? I just want to watch Netflix in the bedroom.”
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Mike Buzzelli is a stand up comedian and a sit down author. His book, "Below Average Genius," a collection of humor columns culled from the Observer-Reporter, can be purchased here.