Welcome to the Stone Age

There was only the bright sun in the sky. No clouds, no vapor trails; even Apollo was still centuries from fruition. Just myself on a wicker patio lounger, cold glass of ice water and a good book or two at the ready (Flaubert’s Parrot being one, the ninth in the series to re-read in time for November being the other).

Welcome to the Stone Age. That’s right. Our television signals have gone wholly digital. Analog is dead except in the Stone Age. There, my phonograph is still alive and well. My television shows DVDs and … you know, Beta Max, at will. And the books help. Safely shuttered away from the outside world. And my feet are gettin’ hairier.

My seven year itch television apparently is analog. Sure, it’s got numerous red-white-yellow combo jacks for inputting XBoxes and DVD players and such forth and so on und so weiter und so weiter. You’re thinking I should have noticed sooner? Well, I’ve not been home for a time.

Ach! But no telly.

And then I came to the realization. Did I miss television? What would I have watched? Likely it would have been to see Team USA shite away a quality chance to A) beat the two best national teams on the planet in back-to-back games, B) hoist some sort of meaningless cup. (For the record, there is only one Cup worth winning, and it is made of silver rings etched in the victors’ personal sigils.)

If I’d have watched that I’d have just been disappointed at a sure victory — blown.

When will I regret the lack of television? Sunday morning, the football season begun, and a Packers home game begins on the west coast at 10 AM and I don’t want to brave a walk to…. What kind of place is open at 10 AM on a Sunday? (Churches don’t count — you can’t watch the Packers game in church unless you’re in Wisconsin). So I have a couple months to figure out a solution.

Note, upon rearrival in TVLand (San Francisco corporate apartment) I watched the replay of the first half of the soccer match on ESPN. It was already getting late in the night and I knew the outcome, so I did not stick around for the second half. Even as a non-soccerer I believe I could see a few things. The Americans scored two beautiful transition goals based on Johnny Hustle! Donovan kept a ball inbounds with a sliding kick, “you win the hustle award!” which led to a rush and a perfect deflection goal. Later, the Americans blocked a shot and countered with what amounts to a 2-1 break. Pass, pass, settle it and shoot. In hockey terms, it was tic, tac, wait for the goalie to commit, toe. He shoots, he scores! Goooooooooooal. And all the rest. Foghorns. All that being said, the Americans did not control the first half. If not for a bunch of blocked shots and plenty of good goaltending, they’d not have been in that game by halftime. Still, it’s a start. But it looked like Brazil and their beautiful game had ball control and it was only a matter of time until they scored a couple and secured their victory. It just took a lot longer than expected. The Americans capitalized on a couple chances.

It reminded me much of the late 1990s Buffalo Sabres. Hasek would stymie the enemies and keep the Sabres in the game. Then, on a rush after a fantastic save, or a turnover, the Sabres score! Yay! Foghorns! The world rejoices. God bless us, everyone.

Ahhh, but also remember, the Sabres never did win that Stanley Cup.

Look! It's NBC!