I recall that we had a television when I was a child. It was rather small, with a handle on top for carrying it around. Occasionally dad would get it out and hold it up while we all danced about him with bits of wire and foil until we found some magic configuration that got reception. Then we all had to try to hold our positions while watching whatever channel we had managed to pick up. One day in the midst of a cartoon, I think, the television suddenly made a loud pop, started spewing sparks and smoke, detached from its handle and plummeted to the floor, where it died in a spectacular spray of shattered glass. We were all left standing there holding our bits of foil and wire, my father still holding the detached handle up in the air with an astonished expession. It was the greatest entertainment the idiot box ever provided. We had never laughed so hard. I still remember it quite fondly.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012 - 01:23