Getting with IT, Part One

You, dear readers, may remember from my premier article that I do not subscribe to streaming services or otherwise watch TV. I do, by the way, have a television. It is small and old. Maybe four times a year I hook up the DVD player and watch something from my small stash of DVDs.

Other than that, I just mess about in the evening. Sometimes it is fruitful, as with the fire starters. But often enough, around 6:30 or 8 or even 9, I will think it a good idea to start that new project that’s been percolating in the back of my mind. I hate to confess that sometimes (nearly always) the only product is - a mess.

My SuperPower is the ability to clog, in record time, any number of horizontal surfaces with bits of projects and piles of indecision. These then require more energy and decision-making to remove/file/take care of, usually when I invite friends or family for a chat and food, or my once-a-month house guest is due to arrive. It turns a fun social opportunity into a stressful frenzy of decluttering.

So maybe it would be a good idea to have an evening routine beyond brushing, flossing, and using the water pic before bed. Perhaps a new routine could include what most Americans already have in their daily life – a big TV and some streaming services. I’d contemplated this off and on (mostly off) for a couple of years, but it took a poke in the eye to actually start the process to shop for a TV.

The poke happened during a mid-December holiday dinner with friends when the conversation turned to “What are you watching these days?” The others enthusiastically enumerated their favorite shows. White Lotus was very popular. Crime shows and documentaries were recommended.

I had nothing. Nada. Zip. Exactly zero to add to the conversation. I felt lonely. And odder than usual. I decided then and there that I wanted to join popular culture. A new TV and a couple of streaming services could be an enhancement to my life.

Immediately upon making that decision a miasma of fears and doubts and overwhelm descended upon my poor little brain.

“Oh no, you know that will be too much! Too much to learn, to research, to spend, too much to decide…no, no, no, put that thought away.”

So, I did nothing.

Almost nothing.

It has been a surprise to learn this about myself: The way I approach a challenge is to look at it sideways, then pretend I didn’t see anything. For instance, later in December I saw some advertisements for TVs, and I said to myself, “Look Self, TVs on sale!”

In a two-second glance, I noted the price range (which really wasn’t a bit of help) and that’s as far as it went.

A month later, a friend related her evening plans.

“The new episode of blahblahblah is on tonight, so I have to go. I want to have dinner made and cleaned up before it starts.”

I felt that little pang again. Was it loneliness? Or FOMO? Or just feeling out of the stream of life?

I told friends that I might be in the market for a new TV. They asked all sorts of questions for which I didn’t know the answers. “What brand are you thinking?” “With Firestick or Apple TV?” “What’s your price range?” I’m sure I looked like a deer in headlights. Overwhelmed by my dearth of knowledge, I took a break.

Now I could at least enumerate my specific concerns:

1) What size would be best for my petite living room and my aging eyes?

2) What features would I want and need?

3) How would I learn about them?

4) How big of a hit could and would my budget take?

5) Should I order online or shop a physical store and depend upon the salesperson?

6) Who will carry the new TV into the house if it is too heavy or awkward for me?

7) Who will mount it on the wall?

8) How much will installation cost, if that’s even an option in these days of staff shortages?

9) With a new TV and its taxes, a larger wall mount, and installation, would the cost be less than this month’s Social Security payment?

10) Most importantly, who would coach me in learning the operation of a device umpteen generations beyond the thirteen-year-old 32” dumb TV I’m replacing?

For better or worse I make decisions on my own. I have been doing so exclusively for the last 14 years of singledom and made most of the household decisions too when I was in the state of matrimony. Usually I do well enough, though I have made mistakes.

It would be pleasant, perhaps, to bounce ideas off someone other than a TV salesperson. My single friends change the subject when such topics come up, scarred from their own forays into these matters. Married friends generally let their husbands deal with televisions. One woman does most of the research when she needs a new TV or other appliance, and her husband agrees with her because he doesn’t want to do the research. After all these years of making decisions solo, I do wonder how I would cope if it was a joint endeavor.

But that’s a moot point.

Happily, regarding research, this is the age of the Internet.

In mid-January, having gathered strength, I decided to see if I could resolve at least one issue. I researched the proper size TV for my living room. I was gratified to find that there is a formula for this. A 55” TV should be perfect.

That there was an answer to this one question gave me courage to look at televisions. At the end of January, I wandered around the electronics section at Costco. LED. OLED. QLED. Refresh rates. Direct lit. Edge lit. Google TV OS. Crystal processor. Quantum Processing. UHD dimming. Ultra UHD dimming. The little info cards offer little explanation, and I’m not ready to talk to the eager salesperson who looks to be about twelve years old.

Life went on. I decided on a budget. It wasn't a big budget because I don’t know if I’ll actually follow through and watch it enough to justify a larger price tag. Or maybe I’ll become a couch potato and watch it too much and decide to stop watching it, cold turkey. Who knows?

I realized I’d like to be able to change the angle of the TV so I can watch it while at the "dining room" table so I’ll have to check out the wall mounts.

What TV would best fit my needs without overkill features? I knew I wouldn’t need a high-end model since I don’t game. Besides the price and size, I decided that the number of 4- or 5-star reviews, like on Amazon, will be a major determining factor.

In early February, I recalled that BestBuy.com has a comparison feature.

Yes! Now I’m cooking with gas! I randomly chose four models and clicked the “Compare” button. I searched for info as to what all the specifications and features mean. I slogged through definitions and then, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information, took another break.

A week later I returned to the site. I checked out a few more features and terms. I spy the filters on the left. Score!

Size, price, and star rating gave me 65 options. Too many.

I searched the list of filters and checked “quality of sound.” My ears need all the help they can get.

The quality of sound filter drastically reduced the number of selections meeting my criteria. Only seven models to choose from. I eliminated the most expensive model, also the two out of stock. Which left four to compare.

Yes! I can do this!

But not now. One mustn’t be rash. There might be something I didn’t think of. I should sleep on this.

Oh! How about those TVs with picture frames and choice of art? Ach. Out of budget.

Just a week later I chose a model with just under four thousand reviews, coming in at 4.7 stars out of 5. In thankfulness to Best Buy for having such a tool online, I ordered the TV from them. I did note that installation was not available “at this time”.

And that is how I came to pick up my new TV only nine weeks after deciding to buy one. Tonight, I slid it gently out of the car and gingerly dragged it the 25’ to just inside my door. Which is where it will stay until I figure out the next step, installation.

Part Two coming up.