York Mountain Winery

Hear It Again . . . For the First Time


Originally published May 2007

Did you know that TIVO is a medical device for us aging boomers? You know about TIVO, right? It's the digital recording device that lets you record shows that are on after you go to bed. Then you can watch them the next morning with your prune juice, oatmeal and wheat germ. You can also rewind shows if someone comes to the front door or if incontinence forces you to trot down the hall. Of course, that's never happened to me. I'm just making up hypothetical medical stuff here.

It would have been nice if these were around when I was growing up. My grandmother lived with us for a time and when the family watched our little black and white TV, she constantly asked questions. "What's he doing? Where's that at? Why are they doing that?" My father eventually would have enough and sternly tell her, "You're watching the same show we are. You know as much as I do." It didn’t stop her. Funny, he does the same thing now when he comes over.

We're on our second TIVO. We wore out the first. It’s Queen Anne’s favorite toy. She’ll record an entire free weekend of HBO or stock up on sappy Christmas movies on Lifetime. She goes through the TV guide and picks out all of the movies that are playing in the middle of the night. Then she finds some reason to get me out of the house on the weekends so she can watch them one after the other. I came home early one time and found her sprawled on the couch amidst a sea of popcorn, Cheetos, potato chips and bonbons.

She's bugging me about getting a new one. Besides recording in High Definition, the new ones have two tuners in them so you can record one show while watching another. More important to her is that you can record two movies on different channels at the same time. When we get one, she'll never leave the house again.

We should deduct ours as a medical device. We use ours as a hearing aid. As we watch a show, there are moments when someone will say something and Anne and I will stare lovingly into each other's eyes and ask, "What did he say?" So we'll wind back to the decisive moment, turn the sound up and play it again. Sometimes over and over until we get it right. It goes on like that all through the evening and then we shut the set off and go to bed. The next morning, I get up and turn the news on. Holy crap! I have to dive for the volume control the sound is so loud. It's like when you start your car after coming out of the store. When you turn the key, you wonder who snuck in and turned the radio up so loud. It always starts an argument. "Why did you have the sound up so high?" "I didn't do it, it was you." Ah, those are the moments we’ll remember in our golden years.

I worry about the Queen sometimes. Frequently she only gets part of what's being said and jumps to some bizarre conclusion. For example, April is tax month and is usual during this time; the news always has stories about how everyone is going to jail if they don’t pay their taxes on time. The same thing happens every year. One of those stories was on the local news and when they finished, they listed all the help you could get from either the IRS office or on the IRS web site.

Anne started in. "Porn! You can get porn on the IRS web site? Why would they be giving away porn on their web site?"

"Forms," I answered. "You can get forms on their web site . . . Miss Littela."

In a squeaky voice she replied, "Oh! . . . never mind."

Till next month
jw