Rage, rage against the dying of the good ol’ days
By Paul Mantee/Special to The Malibu Times
I don’t change well. For instance, I still type faster and more accurately on my 1958 Olympia Manual than I do on my Millennium 2000 Enhanced Performance Keyboard. Technology seems to be rushing at me faster than I can adapt.
Social customs alter as well, and I do not go gently into the present tense. Take dining. I remarked to a friend during a recent lunch at Marmalade that the next busboy who asks me if I’m finished while my mouth is full and my silverware is poised gets a fork in the testicles. Another friend confided to me that I used to be a nice guy, but lately my personality has developed an edge.
“Good,” I said, brandishing the edge, “nice is a non-quality.”
Then I had second thoughts. I did all right when I was a nice guy. Three wives and a career is nothing to sneeze at. Not to mention the privilege of living on the western edge of the continent. So I made a promise to myself that in the interests of staying current and remaining socially viable, I will try to be patient and to embrace progress as it reveals itself to me.
It doesn’t always work.
Case in point: The Home Entertainment Syndrome.
Today, I discovered that, although I can see my local cable company from my deck without my glasses, I can’t phone them without talking to someone in Ontario. Ontario, Canada.
“This is Fred speaking, how may I help you?”
“Fred, your people have made an appointment with me between eight and twelve today to switch my TV over to digital.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s one-thirty, they’re not here and I seem to have rearranged my life for nothing.”
“My apologies, sir.”
“This is the second time this has happened in two months.”
“We have no record of that, sir.”
“And can you tell me, why do I want to be switched over to digital in the first place?”
“Brighter picture and better sound.”
“My picture and sound are fine the way they are. Good job. Anything else?”
“You’ll have access to many more family-oriented and sports channels.”
“Family television is for morons, Fred, and I’m up to my keester in spectator sports. What I need is to get out more.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So how much is all this going to cost me?”
“Looking at your package, sir, about fifteen dollars more per month.”
“So, if I’m already satisfied, why would I choose digital for more money?”
“The installation is free.”
“You don’t understand Fred. I’m happy with what I already have. Can’t we just leave well-enough alone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How will you punish me?”
“We’ll gradually be pulling your premium channels from your existing package.”
“If I don’t switch to digital.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Like HBO, for instance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which I’m already paying for.”
“That’s blackmail, Fred.”
“What if I just pretend this conversation never happened?”
“We’ll eventually charge you a forty-nine-dollar installation fee.”
“Instead of waiting for a free installation that doesn’t occur for something I don’t want in the first place from a company I can see from here, but can’t speak to, which coincidentally happens to be the only freaking game in town.”
“Thank you for choosing Charter Communications.”