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The Big Picture

It’s ridiculous how much I love our television set. I question whether anyone should enjoy something this frivolous this much, but this monster 50-inch TV that Dear Richard brought to our marriage has captured me, hook, line and sinker.

I always considered the humongous TV screens to be a guy thing, but I have to say it would be hard for me to go backwards now after half the den wall has been renamed Panasonic. Obviously, being a fan of life-size characters has no gender.

When I met Richard I had a perfectly acceptable boxy 27″ television. It was relatively new probably not a day over ten, or twelve . . . or maybe fourteen years old. It worked fine.

But after a few years of watching my old-world tube while raving about his big screen at home, Dear Richard decided I needed a new generation entertainment experience. He bought me a 42″ flat screen for Christmas that year. I was thrilled. My tennis matches were more exciting, details were more vivid on the Antiques Road Show and the bigger Tom Selleck got, the handsomer he became. I think Richard was checking out the brand names on the golf balls during Sunday afternoon tournaments.

My TV watching experience has really run the gamut from our first 8″ round screen

when I was a kid. If we weren’t the last in the neighborhood to get one, we were next to last. I would walk home after dark, jealous of the neighbors whose living rooms glowed the telltale blue. Occasionally a neighbor would take pity on me and invite me in for a half hour to watch Howdy Doody on the tiny round screen with Buffalo Bob and Clarabelle. I can’t picture Howdy on a square screen . . . maybe he was gone before they arrived.

Perhaps because of the incredible detail that today’s technology can send into our family rooms, I remain amazed at what we are privileged to see. I guess, as Americans, we are used to this latest, greatest, bestest mentality, but I’m old enough never to take it for granted. I’m blown away by the ability of my computer and stunned by what my cell phone will do. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m still thrilled that a little gremlin in the fridge makes my ice cubes.

In my early years of marriage, we had little black and white televisions maybe 17″ or 19″ until my firstborn was three. Then my mother decided it was morally wrong for a toddler to watch Sesame Street in monochrome. She gave us a 24″ color set so her granddaughter could watch Kermit and Big Bird in living color. It was a game changer. Color became the “don’t look back” new normal.

The hi-definition detail that has so captivated us now has also intrigued Ollie the Wondercat. When the huge screen is full of birds, he stops all movement and stares. Occasionally I’ve seen him crouch into stalking mode but I can see his wheels turning trying to figure out how they got there or why they keep changing as the program proceeds. I’ve also seen him assume super alert mode when other cats, or lord forbid, dogs, take over the screen in life size.

It’s the richness of the picture that I have to admit has intrigued me. Checking out the beaded evening dresses on Downton Abby or the stunning vistas on National Geographic, it’s hard to think about how spoiled we are to have all this beauty brought into our homes. I have intellectual friends who scorn television and I do understand their choice for them. I feel a bit sorry because they simply don’t know what they’re missing.

So I guess, just like rectangular screens were followed by color, and cable access was followed by hi-def flat screens, the BIG screen is here to stay.

I’m betting the little Chihuahuas at the Westminster Dog Show will be four feet long when they arrive at our house next week. And I have it on pretty good authority that Richard will be counting the dimples on the golf balls at the Masters this spring. No bifocals needed.

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