I’VE had some big problems in my time but none have affected my life greater than my current predicament.
My television signal has begun to drop out. I’ve got a conundrum.
It’s not every channel, just a select few.
Yes, you would think it would be the smaller stations but no; thank god I get the local Western Australian station that seems to only show movies that are at least 50 years old.
And don’t fret; I get every single damn shopping channel imaginable.
Sure I’m a fan of quick fixes but even I’m not sold on the men’s under garment body fat sucking shirt.
I can’t imagine a woman sticking around for an explanation after you remove your shirt only to have another skin tight one underneath.
The channel that is most affected is seven.
Thankfully the football is over so I haven’t been too worried.
I haven’t missed watching Kochie dribble on about finance or the River Boys latest escapades in Summer Bay however this week I would have liked at least a little reception.
So far I hadn’t missed any sport, the cricket is on nine and one, two channels that have held strong, but this week the Australian Open began.
I’m not a massive fan of tennis but the fact that I can’t watch it has strangely got me wanting to watch it more.
It seems the teenage relationship policy ‘Treat em mean keep ‘em keen’ also applies to tennis.
At least with the old analogue signal you could walk around with a set of bunny ears and pick up a static picture.
With digital reception I get nothing but frozen pixelated squares and that’s on a good day.
I often try to solve my conundrums by myself but the more time I spend standing on my roof twisting the antenna only reduces the time I could be watching the tennis.
The only solution is to call in the experts and admit defeat.
Conundrum solved … by someone else.