TiVo

For Christmas my brother bought my parents a TiVo. Then he escaped to Boston, leaving me to set it all up for them. He’s an evil genius.

Though, to be fair, they did need an upgrade. A few days before Christmas we were gathered in the living room, watching something on a tape, when the VCR started emitting a high-pitched squeal.

You know when you pick up the phone during a fax and it makes that horrible shrill sound? Yeah, it sounded a lot like that. Only that is what is SUPPOSED to happen during a fax. This sounded like the VCR was crying out for help.

I waited about a minute before I said, “Uhh… the VCR is about to explode.”
“Just ignore it” came the reply from my dad as my sister cranked the volume on the TV to drown it out.
I tried to tune it out, like they had grown accustomed to, shutting out the piercing plea to be put out of its misery. In the meantime, I shifted the blankets in front of me like a shield, calculating an estimated blast radius in case it finally combusted.

I should take this time to mention the phenomenon known as the “Greg Field.” Basically, the “Greg Field” is an invisible (but very real) bubble that interferes with electronic signals. Scientists have been able to pinpoint the center of the field, determining the cause to be my dad, who knocks out electric devices as he moves about the house. Machines previously working flawlessly before entering “The Field” are rendered to expensive and bulky paperweights. Just so you know what I’m working against.

Setting up the TiVo was like an intense wrestling match, only there were less tights involved. Not saying there weren’t tights, they were just hidden under my tear-away pants in case that devil machine REALLY wanted to throw down.

Everything started out smoothly. I set it all up in the living room without reading the instructions because, after all, I’m a man. “Pathetic little video recorder,” I sneered as I turned on the TV to make sure it was all set up, and… nothing. Touché TiVo.

I scrambled behind the TV, checking wires and connections. Nothing seemed to be fixing it. Apparently I underestimated unplugging and plugging it back in.

So once sweet power was flowing to my opponent, I knew we were in for more of a struggle than I had anticipated. According to the instructions, (which I finally gave in and consulted) the TiVo requires a phone connection to activate. Unfortunately, the only plug was on the other side of the room. So I ended up stretching a phone cord across the living room. You know that scene at the end of Back to the Future where Doc is stretching the power cord to send Marty back to the future? Well, let’s just say that while I was hanging on for dear life I thought, “The things I do to record digital television.”

Ok, so the TiVo is activated. The Teletubby-esque TiVo logo was merrily doing a mocking jig. Now I can’t have a phone cord snaking its way across the room, so I decided I was going to hook up the wireless internet. Here is where the “Greg Field” kicked in. I plugged in the wireless adaptor and looked up eagerly at the screen, only to see “No signal found.” Fantastic. After doing a fair amount of fiddling, I carried the TiVo back to the bedroom where the wireless signal originates. I hooked it all up and placed the wireless adaptor literally on top of the router. No signal. Well played, TiVo. Well played.

Six hours later I changed some random setting somewhere. As I left the room, taking a much-needed break from the bout, I glanced over at the screen. Eureka! A signal had been found and was operating at 80%! Wait, 80 percent? It’s sitting directly on top of it! The antennas are touching each other. Damn you “Greg Field!”

To make a long story short, I moved the TiVo back into the living room and when Dad goes to the store it gets a 15% signal.

I would learn later that the biggest feat of all was teaching TiVo. You know what they say. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” And not only was my dog not interested, my parents weren’t too keen on learning either.
My sister hasn’t even warmed up to the idea yet. “Just show me how to change the channels,” she said.
“But you can –”
“No, I don’t care.”
“And there’s the –”
“No, shut up.”
“With the –”
“GO AWAY!”
“And the –”
She then made a sound that reminded me of the old VCR. Ahhh, the memories.

But they also say, “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” I’ve read about 5 pages of the manual, so I’m the reigning recording royalty. That is until the “Greg Field” knocks out the power.