Tuesday, August 8, 2023

The Repairman...The Technician

I was born at the end of the 1940s. As such, there was always a TV in the house, a large, round picture tube encased in a nice piece of furniture, kept out of sight if the unit's two doors were closed, visible if the brass hardware, hinged handles were pulled on and the doors were opened.

I have no idea if my parents bought the TV new. New was not their thing. When I was born, I was probably the newest thing they had. Most everything else in the house came from someone else.

The TV was always there. I don't remember it being delivered and a fuss made over its arrival. I seemed to be the only one who watched it. I was an only child, and I can never remember my mother or father sitting down and watching it. It was of course a black and white set. (We never had a color set until 1968 when I added a Zenith set to the household in 1968.)

The set worked. Most of the time, until of course when it didn't. TVs of that era were powered by vacuum tubes that had an amber glow. These tubes eventually burned out and needed replacing. This was accomplished by a TV repairman coming to the house, opening the back of the set and removing the perforated hardboard that kept you away from the tubes.

The back of the set warned you not to go there. It was labeled HIGH VOLTAGE. The repairman moved the unit away from the wall, got on his knees and did some things, holding a mirror in one hand in front of the set while he fiddled with things in the back with his other hand. (It paid to flexible.) It generally fell to me to tell him how he was making out.

You NEVER wanted to hear that the picture tube was "gone." This was guaranteed to cost mucho dinero and probably meant the end of life as you knew it. Nearly equally as bad was to hear, "the set has got to go back to the shop."

This surely meant you weren't going to have TV for probably at least a week. No Lone Ranger for you. No Superman either. The repairman pulled the guts of the set out of the back and left the house with it. It was not fun to watch.

My wife's uncle was a TV repairman in the 1950s and 60s in Freehold, New Jersey. He would tell anyone who would listen that his knees were shot from being on them so much as he repaired sets. Later of course you would learn this was "housemaids" knees or inflamed bursas. An occupational hazard of all TV repairmen.

If the adult male of the house was really adventurous they might look at the back of set, see which tubes were not lit, and go to a hardware, or TV store and buy replacements. This was not something my father did. I don't remember any neighbors bragging that they fixed their own TV.

It's taken a while, but TVs have almost been replaced by computers and their display screens. Not quite completely of course, because they are plenty of big, wide screen TVs that people have, generally mounted on a wall in the living room or family room. What has changed is that no one expects to have these sets fixed if they konk out. Even if there is an extended warranty, you can pretty much bet that the set will konk out after the warranty expires. When this happens, P.C. Richards, Best Buy, or some other TV vendor will be very glad to steer you to a new and more top-of-the-line set. Because no matter how long you've had your TV, there is always a better set for sale.

And when the desktop computer goes, what next? An automatic new one if hours spent on a help line haven't resolved the issue? Not necessarily.

Somehow, with wisdom I didn't think I had, I must have extended whatever warranty that came with the Dell computer I bought perhaps 4-5 years ago. It has served me well, until it decided not to this past Friday.

Time was spent with the support service I also must have bought. The upshot was there was something going on with the hardware. The computer wouldn't stay on. I was hearing the word "motherboard" as  probable cause. In a computer, that sounds like the picture tube has gone. Start spading the earth.

Discussion followed that gave me the alternative of waiting for Dell to ship me a prepaid shipping box, placing the tower in the box, and sending the computer in effect, "back to the shop."

It's been decades, and I really never thought I was going to hear that again. Anything else we can do? We can have a technician come onsite and try and fix it. You mean, come to the house? How much is that going to cost? Well, since you have the extended warranty, nothing. Let's do that. And since it was Friday, the earliest someone can come out is Monday. Works for me.  

(Over the weekend I caught up on all the newspapers I hadn't fully read. I think I've said this before: reading a newspaper several days, and perhaps several weeks after the date it was printed makes reading go much faster. The U.S. women's soccer team has by now lost. I don't need to read how they should be able win if they do certain things. Certain players did not stay on the Mets roster. Trump did get indicted. Again. No use speculating if he would.)

And out they came. They did replace the motherboard, but that may not have been the reason for the failure. Still not staying on. The technician left after ordering parts for Tuesday. And out they came on Tuesday; both times right in the widow they said they would. Updates sent to my phone. It's a new world.

Success this time. Up and running, but with another visit coming tomorrow to replace the power switch which the technician was not happy with. It doesn't light as it should, and it feels mushy. Fine with me. Come on back. I'm always here.

After all these years, it's still good to have the screen in front of me working.

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