For months now, we've been bombarded with reminders that television will be going "all digital" in February, and if you don't have cable, satellite or some kind of converter box, you're pretty much screwed.
In all honesty, does anyone care? I mean, come on - this change is only really going to affect really old people, really poor people, or those annoying hippie-types who think they're too good for television. But there is someone else this switchover will affect.
Me.
See, for my 15th birthday, I got what can only be described as the coolest, most amazing gift of all time: a portable television. It was about the size of a brick, but the screen itself was a two inch by two inch glowing friendly box slightly offset in the center. It came in a thin plastic carrying case and was technically the first flat screen I ever owned, even though it was neither an LCD or a plasma. But does that really matter when you literally have the power to watch episodes of "Kate & Allie" regardless if you're in your rec room, the backyard, in the car, stuck in quicksand - whatever.
Now in this day and age of iPhones, iPods, Blackberries, YouTube, text messaging, or Nintendo DS's, a portable television probably sounds pretty lame. But in 1988, having a portable TV set that could fit in my pocket and get every station - in color no less! - transformed me from mild mannered suburban teen into some kind of slovenly, uncultured super hero!
Admittedly, I was obsessed with that thing. Maybe a little too obsessed.
Take, for example, all the times my dad came in to my room to catch me watching television on that tiny 2" screen instead of the remote controlled 14" television that sat about five feet from my bed. Or my 16th birthday - when my parents took me, my then girlfriend and her parents to a very swank, very expensive steakhouse. How did I repay their generosity? By bringing Lil' Tubey along to watch the series premiere of "The Simpsons". Nothing but class.
Then there was the time I was on a plane from Syracuse to D.C., and watched an entire episode of "Mama's Family" during flight. Well, not exactly an entire episode - I had to turn it off once the pilot came on the P.A. system to inform us that *someone* was using a non-approved electrical device that was interfering with their instruments, and to please turn it off before we had problems. I ask you - what else could bring you the non-stop hilarty of a "Mama's Family" episode as well as the excitement of a near crash?
Once I hit college, the mini-TV saw less and less action, but did occasionally make appearances. And this thing was a trooper - no matter how long it had been out of action, merely popping in six fresh AA batteries would fire that bad boy up and instantly stream non-stop entertainment to my eyeballs.
I was cleaning out my office about a year ago, and under a pile of stained papers and useless audio tapes, I found the portable set once again. The antenna was a little wonky - it couldn't hold itself up on its own any longer, and obviously wasn't picking up signals as strongly as it once did.
But, believe it or not, that little cathode-infused S.O.B. still worked!
And thus, I've arrived at my point. Think about any gift you've ever been given - let alone anything "technological". What's the longest you've ever used it for? If dogs age 7 years for every one human year, what's the equation for gift years? Ten years for every one human year? That would make this portable television set about 200 years old!
And now, through no fault of his own, Lil Tubey is being put down. Who knows - maybe it's my fault. Maybe it was that fateful night 19 years ago when I so callously flaunted my technological might in the face of Washington's powerful elite. The gears started turning then, and the past has finally caught up to us. But what a ride.
They may have made TV's bigger, brighter, thinner, or HD-ier, but they certainly haven't made them any more entertaining.
