Ok. I am watching the Saturday night movie on a screen that lacks snow, floating lines and ghost vision – you know when you have double vision while watching TV and you have only been drinking tea all night. That kind of vision. Yes, I know, the period in which this is believable is the nineteen eighties. Still, I know for a fact that since then I spent at last one Saturday night drinking tea. But I am veering off track. I am grateful that I am not driving.
The short version is that since my last blog in (gasp!) early August, Lily sent Elias to slip notes under all the doors in Hampshire House advising occupants that people will come to install the DSTV cables. And so they did. The white cable edged unobtrusively on on top of the skirting, around the corner, behind the TV stand. There the end was lassoed and tied. Ah good, I thought, when I get DSTV in the near or far future, or even five years from now, I don’t have to do the whole dish thing.
But there was more. On a Saturday morning, some few days after the installation, I kissed darling goodbye outside the front door and there were guys busy with the new cables some way down the corridor. We waved good morning. Darling went. Seconds later there was a knock on the door and a very short fellow appeared and asked if I had been “connected”. “You must really struggle to reach things on the top shelf,” I restrained myself from saying and let him in to connect me. I was not afraid. Although he had the lean, edgy and rugged good looks of a young Mel Gibson in a post-mullet universe, he must have stood no higher than 5’2” in his Cats. If the morning was going to turn into bad slasher flick, it was most likely going to be Defence of the 50 Foot Woman.
Anyway, I cleaned the house while he fiddled with the cable, and when he left, I had a perfect picture on my own TV, for the first time since I have owned one.
Ok. So. See? Vaguely entertaining as that might be, it is neither interesting nor replete with universal truths, which is why I am not writing a lot on the blog. I will look our for more interesting things to write about when I am not rolling the research-report roller-coaster of ecstasy and despair.
(The despair is mostly about the fact that I have discovered that for the report to be really good, I may to go back to the public-sphere theoretical framework, and that is very hard on the brain.)
And so on. Perhaps tomorrow morning’s papers will be fun.