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There has been something majorly wrong with our shower for the last few days--there is approximately as much hot water available per shower as there is when I make mac-n-cheese. This morning, I stood up and headed to the shower, noting the time. Seven minutes later, I was back at my chair. I tend to shower quickly, particularly for a girl, but seriously. The water shouldn't be frigid after four minutes--that's just not right.
I'm hoping it will fix itself, so no action has yet been taken to correct the problem. The radio in the car fixed itself today, so why not the shower? Yesterday, the clock and the radio were out in the Oldsmobile. This made us very sad, because when one drives the most boring vehicle ever made, one at least expects to have some small creature comforts. The odd thing about it was that the mp3 player, which is just attached to the thing by one of those funky tapes with wires, actually worked, so we weren't too heartbreaken by the loss of the radio. If you had to listen to Morehead radio, you would understand. We have one station that plays an awful lot of Creed and high school basketball but not much else, three country stations that play a crapload of Toby Keith and high school basketball but not much else, one wildly varied public radio-type university channel that's just barely saved from worthlessness by occasionally airing The Prairie Home Companion (and M would also mention the bluegrass that they play sometimes.) Why am I writing about the dismality (please tell me I made that word up--it's completely stupid) of our radio situation again? Oh, right. The Oldsmobile. We were in the car today when suddenly I screeched and pointed wildly about the car, causing M to swerve a little. He probably thought there was a spider on the dashboard, but I had just noticed that the clock was back on. It was strange enough that it had suddenly stopped working, but to suddenly right itself.. that's crazy weird.
I do have experience with spontaneously repaired appliances, though--a history, so to speak. No one ever believes this story, but I swear this is the honest-to-goodness truth, and my mom will even back me up. I can't believe I haven't told it here before, actually. Do you want the long version or the short version? ... The short version? Seriously? You've got to be kidding. You think *I* am going to tell the short version of any story? That's one of my greatest flaws, you know. I absolutely cannot do succinct--you might have noticed this. Long it is, then!
So, anyway. I bought myself a television when I was about eight. I saved up my birthday money and Christmas money and purchased a tv for my bedroom. I wanted to buy a pony with that money, but it just didn't work out. My cousin Rae and I were going to save up all of our money for a long long time and buy a pony together. She had heard of someone who sold horses, and my grandfather has a nice big field, just by my cousin's house, where the pony was going to live. We worked out all of the details and proudly presented that plan to the grown-ups, who nodded sagely and asked us where we would get the money for salt blocks for the pony. That completely put a damper on our entire plan immediately, because while we knew we could afford the horse and all the food, we just couldn't imagine a salt budget. Wow, this is actually even more random than I had planned for this story to get. Okay, so I bought the television, and reruns of Night Court made me happy for many years. I dragged that television all over Georgia and to Memphis before hauling it back to Kentucky to live out its final days.
It was then that the trouble started. It became a little flaky--the sound would suddenly disappear, or would be extremely low unless it was turned all the way up, but then it would suddenly come back in full force. Sometimes the picture would have lines through it, and sometimes it would disappear altogether. It got worse and worse until finally, I gave up on it altogether. In a fit of melodrama, I carried it out of my room and deposited it in the living room, declaring it to be beyond any further use. I had dealt with this tv's problems for months, so it was all quite humorous. We accepted the demise of the television--it had served me well and it was just time for me to move on. It sat in the living room for a few days, though.. no one ever getting around to carting it out, for whatever reason.
As it happened, we were in the living room a few days later, a talk show on for background noise, and a segment came on with a man who claimed to be able to fix things with his mind, through his positive energies, or some such hocus pocus. We were making fun of him, of course, because.. well, seriously. How could you not? I don't really remember the entirety of his claims, but he said that he could teach everyone how to do it. It involved a blue dot, which appeared on the television screen. He said that if you touched that dot on the screen with one hand and touched a broken appliance with the other and concentrated hard, you could fix the item in question.
So I was fourteen or so and pretty dorky, and there just happened to be a broken television sitting two feet away from the actual television, and I was already sitting in the floor for some reason. I made a huge production of laying my hands on the two televisions, closing my eyes and thinking hard about how cool it would be if the television wasn't broken (and how I was making everyone laugh), just as I was instructed. This went on for fifteen seconds before the crazy guy on tv announced that the process was complete. I dramatically got up and plugged the television in and turned it on.
And it worked.
As a matter of fact, it continued to work, and with no sign of any problems. It worked well enough that we took it back to my room and I continued to use it. Actually, I used that television until last year, and none of the issues ever did come back. Some might say that it was just a coincidence, but I know the truth.
I healed that television.
I'm hoping it will fix itself, so no action has yet been taken to correct the problem. The radio in the car fixed itself today, so why not the shower? Yesterday, the clock and the radio were out in the Oldsmobile. This made us very sad, because when one drives the most boring vehicle ever made, one at least expects to have some small creature comforts. The odd thing about it was that the mp3 player, which is just attached to the thing by one of those funky tapes with wires, actually worked, so we weren't too heartbreaken by the loss of the radio. If you had to listen to Morehead radio, you would understand. We have one station that plays an awful lot of Creed and high school basketball but not much else, three country stations that play a crapload of Toby Keith and high school basketball but not much else, one wildly varied public radio-type university channel that's just barely saved from worthlessness by occasionally airing The Prairie Home Companion (and M would also mention the bluegrass that they play sometimes.) Why am I writing about the dismality (please tell me I made that word up--it's completely stupid) of our radio situation again? Oh, right. The Oldsmobile. We were in the car today when suddenly I screeched and pointed wildly about the car, causing M to swerve a little. He probably thought there was a spider on the dashboard, but I had just noticed that the clock was back on. It was strange enough that it had suddenly stopped working, but to suddenly right itself.. that's crazy weird.
I do have experience with spontaneously repaired appliances, though--a history, so to speak. No one ever believes this story, but I swear this is the honest-to-goodness truth, and my mom will even back me up. I can't believe I haven't told it here before, actually. Do you want the long version or the short version? ... The short version? Seriously? You've got to be kidding. You think *I* am going to tell the short version of any story? That's one of my greatest flaws, you know. I absolutely cannot do succinct--you might have noticed this. Long it is, then!
So, anyway. I bought myself a television when I was about eight. I saved up my birthday money and Christmas money and purchased a tv for my bedroom. I wanted to buy a pony with that money, but it just didn't work out. My cousin Rae and I were going to save up all of our money for a long long time and buy a pony together. She had heard of someone who sold horses, and my grandfather has a nice big field, just by my cousin's house, where the pony was going to live. We worked out all of the details and proudly presented that plan to the grown-ups, who nodded sagely and asked us where we would get the money for salt blocks for the pony. That completely put a damper on our entire plan immediately, because while we knew we could afford the horse and all the food, we just couldn't imagine a salt budget. Wow, this is actually even more random than I had planned for this story to get. Okay, so I bought the television, and reruns of Night Court made me happy for many years. I dragged that television all over Georgia and to Memphis before hauling it back to Kentucky to live out its final days.
It was then that the trouble started. It became a little flaky--the sound would suddenly disappear, or would be extremely low unless it was turned all the way up, but then it would suddenly come back in full force. Sometimes the picture would have lines through it, and sometimes it would disappear altogether. It got worse and worse until finally, I gave up on it altogether. In a fit of melodrama, I carried it out of my room and deposited it in the living room, declaring it to be beyond any further use. I had dealt with this tv's problems for months, so it was all quite humorous. We accepted the demise of the television--it had served me well and it was just time for me to move on. It sat in the living room for a few days, though.. no one ever getting around to carting it out, for whatever reason.
As it happened, we were in the living room a few days later, a talk show on for background noise, and a segment came on with a man who claimed to be able to fix things with his mind, through his positive energies, or some such hocus pocus. We were making fun of him, of course, because.. well, seriously. How could you not? I don't really remember the entirety of his claims, but he said that he could teach everyone how to do it. It involved a blue dot, which appeared on the television screen. He said that if you touched that dot on the screen with one hand and touched a broken appliance with the other and concentrated hard, you could fix the item in question.
So I was fourteen or so and pretty dorky, and there just happened to be a broken television sitting two feet away from the actual television, and I was already sitting in the floor for some reason. I made a huge production of laying my hands on the two televisions, closing my eyes and thinking hard about how cool it would be if the television wasn't broken (and how I was making everyone laugh), just as I was instructed. This went on for fifteen seconds before the crazy guy on tv announced that the process was complete. I dramatically got up and plugged the television in and turned it on.
And it worked.
As a matter of fact, it continued to work, and with no sign of any problems. It worked well enough that we took it back to my room and I continued to use it. Actually, I used that television until last year, and none of the issues ever did come back. Some might say that it was just a coincidence, but I know the truth.
I healed that television.
