There's a television in my dining room. Not some little flat screen in a breakfast room. But a giant, 32-incher in my formal dining area. On a stand, no less. It used to be upstairs in the playroom, but it died four weeks ago. The Husband and a friend brought it down and plopped it in here.
"No, no, no, take it all the way out or it'll sit here for a month," I assured them. And so it has.
At first there were calls - calls for someone to come pick it up, calls to come help take it out. But as the weeks wore on, the urgency died down, and now no one seems to be able to see this thing but me.
It's three feet tall, and two and a half feet wide. And it's black. And everyone walks by it like it's not even here. It's the size of an ATM. A barber chair. A set of third-grade twins. Two sets of mailboxes looking at each other. I mean, you can see it.
I've got to get someone's attention. So I print off the CNN logo and a picture of Wolf Blitzer and I tape them to the blank screen. Then I print up a long headline and tape it up under the logo like a news ticker. Voila - "The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer" - appropriately, in the room with my situation.
Nobody noticed. In fact, two girlfriends of mine who come over each week to write at my dining room table are so used to walking past the TV, they didn't even blink.
Maybe if I "change the channel" - mix it up. I start my own little coverage of the Olympics - taping up pictures of gold medalists. But it's frustrating, I can't tell who's who in all those hats and helmets. And even when I can make out their flag, I don't know what country it is.
I'll have better luck when it's Oscar time. I know my movie stars. Maybe I'll even tape my personal picks up on the screen ahead of time and see if anyone notices how many I get right.
And I could cover the ACC basketball tournament - have the bracket on the screen and update it each night. Surely that would get everyone's attention. Even my girlfriends get into the Duke-Carolina rivalry.
But how long would this go on? It could be a while. I mean, who wouldn't want to wander into the dining room, have a scone, and ponder the headline of the day. Suddenly, I see myself pasting up candidates during Obama's run for re-election in 2012.
What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I want to bury the TV, not resurrect it. If nobody can see it in the dining room, I need to put it where it's a little more visible.
So I shove two towels underneath it and slide it into the kitchen - blocking the refrigerator. That ought to do it. Enjoy your TV dinner.