THE CHRISTMAS GIFT THAT COULDN’T STOP GIVING 2021

The Christmas Season 2021 is now upon us. This year, as it approaches, I realize that it is time for a Christmas post. I know, most of you are saying, “yeah, so what” or, “who cares, anyway”? My only response is, “well Deysi does!” One reader is enough to set me into a writing frenzy. Just the thought of one person pouring over my babble, indeed, gets my juices flowing. As I prepare myself to spill out my most cheerful Christmas story, it is clear what I will write about. This year my post jumps right out at me. I will never forget the Christmas 2021 gift that “just kept giving”. So this, Deysi, is for you, and anyone else bored enough to read it.

Just prior to Christmas, Ange decided that we needed a new soundbar for our TV, so that I could hear my movies. (Ange is the only one that sees my hearing loss as a disability, and not an age, or character flaw). It came by UPS, and was dropped at our door. I had no idea what it was, or who it was for. Anyway, we open it and there lies a new surround sound woofer, tweeter and a couple of hooters. We finally realized it was from Ange. What a great surprise. Early the following morning I hop out of bed to install this marvel of electronics. It did not take me long too realize that this new technology was not going to work on our 15 year old TV. At this point I should have run and hid! “No problem,” says Deysi, “we need a new TV anyway”. “Geezus,” I thought, “what could possibly go wrong here?”

This soundbar was like a tiny snowball at the top of the hill, just waiting to roll down and pick up momentum. Until, ultimately, it stopped at the bottom, a huge, lumbering ball of snow, ice, sticks and dirt. Now I am faced with a new TV. Of course the one Deysi wanted was not available in town, so we had to drive to Nanaimo, to get one. So now I have a new, all singing, all dancing TV loaded into our vehicle. Finally after an 8 hour day I have this behemoth lying in the back of our car, like a dead elephant. Now I just have to carry it up 2 flights of stairs into our tv room. How in hell am I going to do that? Wait a minute, I’ll ask Deysi to help me. I guess you can see where this is going. About halfway in, we are no longer speaking to each other, she has left me twice, and I have apologized 3 times. But we do wrestle it all of the way upstairs.

After some minor struggles and disagreements it is finally in place on it’s stand. And lo and behold, I connect the cluster …. of cables from TV to gadgets, gadgets to gadgets, and the new soundbar to everything. I even have a few cables hanging out, in case I need extras, or ever figure out what they were supposed to, connect to. I truly believe that, had I been 12 years old, I would have connected this thing in a few minutes, and that it would have made sense. Anyway, I have the TV working, and sound coming out of the gadgets, into the soundbar. I have a half dozen remotes laying around, but a miracle has happened. Sound is coming out of the soundbar and reverberating off the walls. I sink into my chair, so proud of my accomplishments. It is now time to watch some serious TV, without the “seniors” subtitles.

Not so fast you might say, “it can’t be that easy”. Well, you would be right. I have been sitting in a contented state for about 5 minutes, when Deysi says, “Jimbo?” Immediately, I shrink into my chair and pretend I don’t hear her. She says, “you know, with the new soundbar and TV, that couch and those two recliners look so old and out of place!” The hairs stand up on my neck! Now, one day since receiving the surprise package, I already have a new TV, just to support it. I also know what new furniture will cost. About the same price as a decent car. So, I’m saying, “no sweetheart, I like our furniture. It is rustic and finally broken in, too fit our bodies. I think it will be good for a few more years”.

I head for the door, looking for escape, but don’t get far. She now says, “I have an idea”. The cold sweat is now running between my shoulder blades. “We will just take these pieces and swap them with the ones in the theatre room, downstairs. Those have hardly ever been used.” That means, taking these big, leather, overstuffed monsters, carrying them down two flights and then shoving them down a stairwell, that turns 90 degrees in the middle. I say, “no way, impossible, I cannot possibly lift them”. Further, I add, “those pieces in the theatre room are even bigger, and never coming out of there.” Now she’s rubbing up against my bicep, squeezing it and saying, “a big strong bull like you, can surely get those pieces, down there, for me.” I tell her, “not without a man and a boy, I can’t.”

Now she springs her trap on me, “so it’s settled then, you hire a man and a boy and just swap those pieces out!” She then flounces off, very happy with her work. Meanwhile I am in a fit of self abasement. I’m alternately kicking my own ass and punching myself, for being tricked, once again, into something that I don’t want. I can hear her, and that evil cat, “high fiving” as they walk away. Geezus, doesn’t she know I am over 70 years old! I have trouble lifting my fat butt out of my couch, let alone lifting the couch. I can not see any possible way those couches are going down that stairwell, or coming up, either. All I can see is our house ripped apart and walls pulled down to get that furniture out of there.

But now I am trapped, so I go to the phone book in search of a man and a boy for hire. I find one and tell him my problem. I explain just how big and heavy these pieces are and how small the hole is to get them in and out. Silently I’m praying that he says, “nope, can’t be done! You are much better off leaving them where they are”. I was ready to pass the phone to Deysi, so she could get it from “the horse’s mouth”. He pauses for a few seconds and then blurts out, “yup, I’m your man, no problem, I’ll be there Saturday.” Deysi is clapping her hands in glee, bobbing up and down and saying, “ask him how much, ask him how much.” He has not seen the house, the furniture or the stairwell(s). Yet, she wants a firm price. Geezus! I am now trying to dissuade him from blurting out something else, stupid. I tell him these are big, heavy, awkward pieces going down stairs and thru a keyhole.

However, I’m stuck now, so we make an agreement that he will bring a, big, tough boy to help him. I then spend the rest of the week measuring openings, test–lifting one end of the couch, and thinking up, unsolvable problems. My worse fear, is to get that walrus-sized couch, stuck in the bottom stairwell, and not be able to get it out. Not without some major ripping and tearing of walls, at the very least. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat and I can’t pretend that it will be fine. Deysi’s take on it is, “you worry to much!” “Go find something else to do.” Friday comes and Ange, who started this joyous chain reaction, arrives for a visit. She listens to Mom’s idea, and gives me the “are you completely losing it”, look? But out of her mouth comes, “what a great idea, I’ll help.” You see, she knows her mom and it is already too late to change Deysi’s mind.

Saturday morning arrives and my last hope of changing the direction of this disaster, disappears, as the man and a boy arrive, right on time. The man was a big, burly, furniture lifting, piece of work. His helper however was about 5’2″ and 140 pounds fully loaded. Deysi has disappeared to her room, leaving me to “deal with it”. Ange looks at this team and says, “Dad you are not lifting one thing!” I had my weight lifting “hernia belt” strapped on, but knew I had better get out of the way, or she was going to get Mom. I show them the task. Now the man can clearly see what he is dealing with. He says, “well it doesn’t look like we can get it down those bottom stairs.” I’m relieved and ready to call off the whole thing. Until he says, “but we’ll try our best.”

He grabs one end of that monster couch and the little guy grabs hold of the other. I know I could be of no possible help. I could not really even lift one end from the floor. So, after a lot of grunting groaning and straining, they have that big elephant stuck in the bottom stairwell. My heart is in my throat. Ange is now telling them to, “turn it this way, push it back and wiggle it down.” Low and behold it pops out of that hole and is in the theatre room. I am amazed. But the bigger, heavier one still needs to come out, and go up those stairs. They grab hold of it, lift it, move it a couple of feet and then set it down. There is no way, they are going to get it into those stairs.

Now the man makes a management decision. “I’ll just go and get a friend. We need 3 of us to lift this.” With that the man and the boy leave. Now I’m thinking, if they don’t come back, I will have no couch in the family room and no chance of Ange and I, moving it back up. We are discussing how hopeless our situation is. I then decide to go get some tools and see how much of it we can dismantle. Well, like a miracle, one third of it comes apart and falls off into Ange’s arms. About the same time the man and boy return with a short, but stout friend. The job is suddenly manageable.

The man then becomes the non-working foreman. He now instructs the two little guys how to move the remaining stuff. It all worked. So after some very stressful moments, Deysi’s house has been turned upside down. She is quite happy. The $175 that the moving team cost, was nothing. At least now I can plunk myself down on our new furniture and watch some serious movies. You think? Deysi is standing there tapping her foot and has another revelation. “Jimbo”, she smoothes out, “with the new soundbar, new tv and new furniture, those old TV trays look tired and faded. “Nooooo”, my mind shrieks out!” Yup you guessed it. Another tour of every furniture store within 100 miles looking for new TV trays. Alas, she can find nothing she likes. “No problem” she declares, “we’ll just paint ours”!

Now two things I know about this statement are: first, “we” doesn’t mean “we”, it means “me”, and second, I knew I‘d rather paint a barn, than paint 8 of these TV trays, with their one hundred edges and moveable parts. But not to be deterred, Deysi does indeed consider the case, closed. So in her mind, another job done; check. My protests mean nothing. To her I’m just whining. Three days later and after three coats of paint and some serious cursing, I have painted, her 8 TV stands. The material cost was not much, however, even at minimum wage, my time should have been worth $500. Not to Deysi though. In her mind, I would have just been sitting around anyway. So, it gave me something to do! Now I’m finally able to listen to my new soundbar. Well, almost.

Just as I slide into my new seat, Deysi now decides that everything must run off one remote. Another day is lost. None of the 5 or 6 remotes are made to do everything. Ange then says what you need now, is a universal remote. I calmly reach for my gun and shove it into my mouth. But, after another, 8 hour round, of low tech science, I have managed to get the new tv remote to perform about 99% of all functions, for all pieces of equipment. Finally I can sit and enjoy my new soundbar without needing subtitles or, reading lips. The programming of the remote is on a very delicate balance. It kinda works if “the stars are aligned” in perfect sequence.

The big day has finally arrived. We have our first company since the installation of the new high-tech sound equipment. Not to mention the complete rebuild of everything around it. D2, A, Benhameen and O arrive for a visit. I am proudly explaining everything that is new, and how I, single handedly, conquered adversity to make it all happen. In the middle of my lengthy explanation our daughter in law, A, picks up the remote and plants herself 5 feet from the TV. Just as I reach the place where I’m explaining the delicate relationship between myself and remote, “A” points the remote at the TV, and bangs out a rapid fire cadence on the buttons. Tap, tap, tap, she hits each and every button with distain. My blood freezes and my heart stops. A lone tear trickles down my cheek. My son thinks it is hilarious.

The next day, company now gone, I sink into my new chair to listen to our new soundbar, when, I hear, these famous, blood curdling words. “Jimbo, one last thing”. It was at this point, that I finally breakdown, and weep into my arms. “The back speakers need to be moved.” I am beyond resistance, all I can say is, “don’t touch them I’ll do it”. The words, barely pass my lips, when I hear the crash of one of the speakers, hitting the floor. I quickly apologize for making her knock over the speaker stand. Two days later and a few more curse words muttered, I get the speaker playing once again. However, the psychological damage, to my well being, will never be repaired.

Now, I am crouched in front of our new sound bar every day. I am so happy with the GIFT THAT JUST KEPT GIVING. Thank you Ange for keeping up the spirit of Christmas. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL, A GOOD NIGHT!