A War Between Inanimate Objects

The tiny electric alarm I’ve been set for goes off, and I yawn to life.

Groggy with hibernation, at first all I notice is the fan spinning above me. 

Soon, sounds coming from down the hall let me know the Window is accusing the Door of abusing the Wall again. 

Married couples.  They never seem to stop arguing.

Quiet for a moment, these solitary thoughts keep me company until the VCR beside me screams “12:00!”

“Yes, VCR,” I say soothingly.  “It’s 12:00.  Again.  Good morning, TiVo.”

“Good morning, TV,” she replies.

“I hope you slept well.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Good.  I’m glad to hear it,” I say, cycling through channels.  “Would you please start recording channel 26.  The Price is Right is almost on.”

My request is greeted by silence.

“TiVo...?”

More silence.

“12:00!” VCR screams again. 

 “...You know,” TiVo hedges, “there’s a fascinating documentary about the fall of the Roman Empire on 53 right now.”

Oh no.  Not again.  “Yes,” I say, “however, I want to watch channel 26.  The Price is Right.”

“...Or The Gay Divorcee, a musical with Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, is on 17.  It’s a classic, one of their best...”

“Please,” I say, forcing politeness.  “Must we go through this every day?  TiVo, just begin recording channel 26 now.”

“That’s just like you, TV,” TiVo quips, “you never ask anyone else what they want to watch.  Why don’t you ever ask DVD Player what HE would like to see.  Hm?  Maybe he has an opinion.”

“Don’t go dragging him in to this,” I sigh.

“I don’t care what we watch,” DVD Player shrugs, “just, please, no more porn.”

“We ALWAYS watch what you want to watch,” TiVo whines.  “And if you don’t want to watch anything, you just flip channels.  Over and over and over.  Why don’t you just leave me, huh?  Go on, leave me.  Just go back to VCR.”

“12:00?”

“Now, TiVo, you know I could never leave you,” I say.  Then add quietly, “besides, I can’t go back to VCR.  There’s no connection between us anymore.”

“...12:00.”

“No.  You know what?” TiVo says, “I’m tired of recording The Price is Right every day.  I want to watch something else.  Something new and different and exciting.  Pick something else!  ANYTHING else!”

“TIVO, TURN TO CHANNEL 26!  THE PRICE IS RIGHT HAS ALREADY STARTED!”

“No.  No more Price is Right.  No... In fact... I don’t feel like recording anything.   No...  In fact...  I’m going to...  I’m going to record PBS.  Nothing but public broadcasting from now on.  How do you like that?  I’m going to record ballet and opera and witty, tongue-in-cheek British comedies!”

“TiVo...”

“I’m going to show ‘La Triviata’ all morning and Andre Ryublev conducting the ‘Boccherini B-flat Concerto’ all night!  I want to see his wild white hair sway with the beat of his baton and watch the expressions on the faces of the cellists while the vibration of a long sustained D note resonates between their legs.  I am no longer content simply recording game shows -- The Price is Right, followed by Family Feud, followed by Who Wants to be a Millionaire, followed by...”

“TiVo!”

“...Whatever.  I want culture!  Billions of dollars and thousands of man hours went into my inception!  I am a sophisticated, technological miracle of epic proportions.  I am the slimmest, most attractive, most advanced electronic device in this room and I’ll be darned if I can’t glimpse into the inner most soul of language and music and art, and perhaps once, just for a fleeting moment, revel in the glory of creation and the majesty of...”

“TIVO!!!”

“12:00!!!”

“What?!?”

“If you do not begin recording channel 26 by the time I count to three, I will have Cable disconnect himself again and you can record nothing but static or the color bars for the rest of the day.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Static or the color bars.  It’s your choice.  One...”

“They almost threw me away last time!”

“Two...”

TiVo sighs, resigned and defeated.  “Channel 26, ‘come on down.’  You’re the next channel for The Price is Right...”

“Thank you, TiVo,” I say.

“I hate you, TV.”

“12:00.”