I get back to my paper grading. The light comes in, slowly, tentatively. I look out the window on Ed’s side. I know that stuff! Cold, wet snow.
It’s always thrilling to get that first thin layer...
...To imagine digging out some time soon. To think of the ski trail just down the road. To forsee a landscape of thick powdery white stuff.
For now, it’s just an introduction.
And downtown, it’s only a wet, unlikable mess. I look out onto Bascom Mall and watch the usual march of students braced for the worst.
Students. Which reminds me. My students. It’s their turn now. I’m done grading and commenting (for a bit). They’re working on what I gave them, I exhale.
...And eventually I'll catch up on groceries, on house cleaning, on planting the last of the bulbs – all that was on hold for several weeks and weekends now.
But first, we, Ed and I, have our wonderful moment of respite at the café. It’s a brief spell of quiet, because within minutes we're at it -- gnashing over the central issue of our lives:
Ed threatens to tell Bill that I am lusting for a bigger TV. Bill is Paul's, the café owner’s, dad. He’s here every day, helping out. He and Ed share a dislike for any number of things, including consumer spending.
...I’m with you, Paul says to me. Movies these days are about the visuals.
Bill comes in and, to my shock, he backs me up as well. Get it, enjoy it, it’s not a big deal.
Ed looks crestfallen.
I’m an 8 now, Ed! I say, glowing.
That’s interesting because I’ve just slumped to a 2.
We drive to Walmart’s. We pick up the set. 37 inches! Twice that of the current one! I think of the nature shows we so often watch. Finally vivid. Vibrant. Luminous.
Ed’s scowling.
We wheel the set out, pausing at the cash register to pay for cartons of mineral water (which are almost as cheap here as it is at Woodman’s).
The salesclerk is pleasant, friendly.
An early Christmas present? She asks.
Actually yes...I have eight sets. Two of them are bigger. Fifty-five's.
Ed throws up his hands.
At home, the snow is nearly melted. Ed climbs on the roof to take down cans of paint. It’ll be cold tonight. Indoors, he works to connect the set. I eat soup from a box. We watch a library movie -- An Education, then Nova.
Gorgeous.
Mine is 46". I adore it. But then, all I have to talk to is cats and they're very silent cats.
ReplyDeleteI love the first snow pictures. We had our first snow back a week or two ago and it's been almost summer-like since then here in New England. But winter is rumbling along across the nation, I hear, and will, no doubt, be on our doorstep very soon indeed.
ReplyDeleteWait! The salesclerk at Walmart has 8 TV sets? That is exactly what Ed and Bill rail against. My husband too. We have one set - small screen and large body - and he won't hear of buying a larger screen flat body set.
ReplyDeleteEarth Girl: Other details from conversation with salesclerk:Ed says, aghast -- this is why we have exploding debt! ...to which she calmly answers: I paid cash for all of them. He asks -- how many members in your household? Four, she tells him. And BTW, the remaining sets are all 32 inch screens.
ReplyDeleteSome people prefer to escape their lives with photons, others prefer jet engine. I'm a fan of physically wandering the world, but I see the appeal in both.
ReplyDeleteAs for the snow, prof, these are the months where I get a little more confident in my difficult decision to transfer...Winter is coming...
Where would they put 8 large sets? Assuming the 4 people have separate bedrooms, that's 4. Plus 1 in the living room, family room, kitchen and the last one in a bathroom? Or does a saleclerk at Walmart have a separate exercise room, den, mancave? Can you imagine the cacophony when several sets are turned on? I'm sorry to pick on this one aspect of your beautiful post, but I am intrigued. Perhaps they pay their clerks more in Madison than in Indiana.
ReplyDeleteAnd so what is the verdict on the new TV? Do you like it better than the previous one that you returned? How about Ed? Is the reality any better than the concept?
ReplyDelete