Blood for Television

First and foremost, I have to tell you that this is only the second time I’ve composed a blog post using a computer that was not my own. The first time was in Ireland. So this is a new phenomenon for me in America. For those of you who I have not had the chance to tell yet, I’ve sold my laptop. Currently, the old machine is winging its way to Nigeria. Yes, that is correct, I said Nigeria. The woman who bought it from me lives in Washington and wanted it shipped directly to her nephew in Nigeria. I should be going to get my new computer at the beginning of next week, where I will be moving on to the 12” Powerbook which will be much easier to use in class, and I’ll get a number of advancements that have been made in the two years I had the old computer.

Continuing on with the electronics discourse, I have to take a moment to brag. Our apartment, A36, Lovernich, now is the home to a very large television. For those of you who don’t know what John Deniston (my current roommate) to go pick up the tv. True to her word, the TV was exactly what she said it was, and was in perfect working order, with a gorgeous picture. I quickly found out though that I brought the wrong person to help me get it. I looked up the stats for the tv and found that it weighed 235lbs, and I overestimated John’s strength just a tad. Though John is a flight commander for his AFROTC detachment, he’s built more to be successful in the realm of doing all the pushups, sit-ups, and running that such a position requires than the strength of largeness that carrying large televisions necessitates. We got the TV to the door okay, and then down the two steps off of her small porch when I notice that John’s beginning to shake fairly considerably, so we try to speed it up a little, hoping to make it the last 10 feet to the pickup bed before John kills himself. Big mistake. There was about a 16inch high stone wall sticking out a couple feet from the side of the porch that John failed to notice. Already shaking from the load, he struck his shin fairly decidedly on the tip end of the wall. I’m watching everything in slow motion as John folds in half like a paper doll and just disappears on the other side of the television. The woman we bought it from jumps in just in time to slow the fall of the tv enough that nothing at all was hurt and it landed on it’s base, next to John, rather than on top of him. Still considerably shaken, John and the woman on one side, and I on the other, we picked up the TV and got it the rest of the 7 feet or so into the back of the pickup. Now, before I let you get to far into harassing John for the fact that a woman had to help him on his side of the TV, I have to tell you she was every bit as big as I am and covered in tattoos, exactly the kind of woman you wouldn’t be too ashamed to get a little help carrying something from. I made a few phone calls before we got back to campus, and when we arrived there were four other men waiting to help us get the TV up the three flights of stairs to our apartment. Allowing John to rest and nurse his wounds, the other five of us, with much difficulty, got the set up and into our apartment. But after watching the kick off of NFL football last night on that monster of a television, it was clear that the moral of the story is that good deals on large televisions are worth every drop of blood it takes to get up to your third floor apartment.

Thanks to everyone who helped.