The Thinker (Cigar Smoke 3-13-08)

I was watching television the other night, and it was getting pretty late, and I was skipping through the commercials on Letterman, and then I heard this noise behind the TV set. At first I wasn't too concerned. I hear noises now and then. Some of them aren't even voices in my head. But then I heard it again. It was a little louder. And then the TV picture was gone. No picture at all. But there were those little codes in the upper left hand corner of the screen. This will become important later.

Anyway, because I had heard actual noises, I thought maybe a rat had got in there and eaten the wires. That's not too far-fetched, because earlier in the year a rat did indeed eat through our telephone wires outside. I thought maybe he was cold and wanted a midnight stack indoors. I don't know.

So I looked behind the TV set, cautiously, so as not to be rat attacked. There was not a rat. Not even a rat pellet. Just a few candy bar wrappers and some Jimmy Hoffa stuff. That was it.

So, being the thinker that I am, I said to myself, "Hey, Thinker Face, why is my TV dead?" And I answered myself, "I don't know and I don't care. I'm tired and I'm going to bed." And I did. Slept like a lanky baby.

Then, in the morning, I went back out to the family room, hoping the TV set had fixed itself. I turned it on. Same problem. The power actually went on, but there wasn't a picture. And there was this little error message from Charter that said Weak or No Signal. I've seen that before, and I have been able to figure it out. But this time, my fixes didn't work.

So then I started to feel sorry for myself and whine and curse out Charter and Samsung and TiVo and their horses. I've always found that if I don't feel sorry for myself and whine and curse, I can't fix any problem. That's always my first step. This time though, the cursing and whining didn't do diddly, except scare the doo-doo out of my dog dog. That's another story.

Then I made the rational decision to be mature. (This occurs, on average, twice a decade for me.) I was going to be mature and just think the problem through and solve it. So I said to myself, "Mature Face, think about this and try to figure out what exactly is the problem?" So I started thinking.

I thought like a pro, baby. And whenever I try to actually think, I call upon my three role models. (No, not Curly, Larry, and Moe.) I look deep deep into my brain, close to where fire and the wheel were conceived, and I try to visualize Richard Feynman (Caltech whiz) Scott Peck ("The Road Less Traveled" whiz), and Robert Persig ("Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" whiz.) If these guys can't solve a problem, well, I guess I'll just have to take a whiz.

So we all meet in my brain. Yes, it's a bit crowded, but comfortable. We throw back a few beers. Richard tells us about some babe, and Scott is still counting his money - out loud, and Robert says, "Damn, I wish I could write a frigging second book!"

And then they ask me what I've been up to. I say, "Scrabble."

OK, yes, I had to help them up. Those laughing bastards. Spilled beer all over my frontal cortex.

So, I'm sitting on the couch with these three turkeys in my head, and I look at the TV area. And I say to myself, "Just think. Just think it through." So I start thinking so hard my nose hairs are burning. And I just look at the whole, excuse the expression, picture, which, by the way, isn't there.

And then I notice something. Although the power to the TV is on, there is no power on any of the other electronic bullshit goodies I have stacked next to it. The TiVo controller is dead. The VCR player is dead. The DVD player is dead. The Bose Sound System is dead. (I wish I were dead.) No lights on at all. The lights on all four of the other systems are not on. It's darker than death in a black hole with dead batteries. That's pretty dark.

So I think. Why is the power on only the TV and not the other crud? I ask Dick and Scott and Bob what they think. They suggest, "Since you're so mature, you figure it out. Brain-ass." So I was on my own.

I got up off the couch. Went behind the TV again and looked at how the power was hooked up. And sure enough, the TV was plugged into the wall. But the other four electronic gizmos were plugged into a power strip. Not the same source of power.

I was so excited I wept quietly to myself. (I'm generally not a quiet weeper.) Then I wiped the tears away and unplugged all the stuff from the power strip and re-plugged them all into this surge protector multiple-outlet thing that came with the TV.

If my thinking had been right, I would have solved this problem. I went back out in front of the TV and I looked over at the stack of controllers and players and damned if all the little red lights weren't all on. It was beautiful. I upped the volume of my weeping.

Then I turned the TV back on. And I saw the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a naked woman reading the Hockey News. (No, no, that was Feynman.) What I saw was that little dancing TiVo logo bouncing on the screen. And it reset the whole deal and the THX sound came booming on and life was good.

Yes, yes, my TV was working again. And more importantly, I had fixed it. Yes, me. I had fixed it. Just by thinking. I had figured it out. I was a thinker! Maybe there is a statue in my future of my still quite youthful nude thinking body with my elbow on my knee and my face resting thoughtfully in my hand.

Who would've thunk it?

Jim Laris is the former owner/publisher of the Pasadena Weekly. Contact him at jimlaris@mac.com.