It should be a large-ish one: at least as big as the old one, which was enormous by my standards but quite modest among entertainment-industry people. As I recall, these things are measured on the diagonal, which would have made ours 4-5 feet. I think.

Any advice you have would be appreciated.

Naturally, we'd like a flat-ish screen, and HD capability. But we won't be hanging the thing on a wall: rather, we'll probably just place it on the entertainment center I got to hold my LP collection. It's shallow, but I like it. If we keep it, I'll probably have to get holes drilled in the back, and get one of those thingies installed: those doohickeys that allow a flat-screen to be angled in one direction or another. (If we have to get a new entertainment center, that's okay. Though I'd rather not. A the H likes glass, but A the H hasn't thought about how difficult it is to keep glass clean.)

We're retaining the old television so we can keep our VHS tapes, and so I can get back in the habit of watching television in one of the other rooms. Not the kitchen, though: we have to get the Charter Charmers [these guys are really, really nice--A the H is ready to write a letter to The Powers That Be about how great their techs are] back in order for me to watch TV in the kitchen. So it's the office, or the bedroom.

As you can imagine, with no media room and only one den/guest bedroom, we're going to have to coordinate much more closely about hours from now on. The touchy time is late at night before A the H has gone to bed--but while I'm starting to groove in "vampire" mode. If A the H is watching the big TV, I'll be in the den. If he's watching the small TV, I'll be in the living room. It's a matter of me not having to relocate when he goes to bed, because I'll be trying to unwind, too: it's just that I take 3-10 hours to do it.

But, yeah: when we're rich again, I might get a small telly for the kitchen so I can watch movies while I make soup or bread or whatever.

I'm starting to really like this place. Except for the piercing screams of children and the occasional yelling down on the street—or engine-gunning—by the local youts, it's not a lot more noisy. And there aren't all those fucking birds around here: just pigeons, and (yes!) hummingbirds.

I figure if I want to see birds, I can go hiking in Brand Park. Or I can go walk my old loop in Flintridge—it was 3.3 miles, and it took me an hour in my prime. It was more like an hour twenty, an hour fifteen, in the last year, but that route contains ungodly changes in elevation. If I don't stop off to check out any of the views, I can do it in an hour and ten. Not bad, considering.

Now I can start the loop any place I like, so I do the hike up front, rather than ending on the steepest climb, after I'm exhausted. Like hiking to the Rio Grande: expend all your energy up-front, going downhill. That way you can just fucking die on your way back to the trailhead, and as you pass the rangers, your face beet-red, your spouse can come up and give them a hearty "hi," so they don't attempt to try their first-aid skills on you.

Where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: advice on TVs, and on either repelling or attracting birds, depending on my mood. Please send. Thank you.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:37 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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