Welcome to the Digital Age

By John J. Cox
A Resident of Woodside
(For Exclusive Use of the Queens Gazette)

The phone rang at an unusually late hour, meaning only one thing--Vernon Jackson, my lifelong friend, needed help. "Have you hooked your television to the digital converter box yet?" he asked.

I explained to Vernon that because I received my TV signal through a local cable company, I had no need for a converter box. But knowing what a sports fanatic he is, I expressed surprise that he had not yet himself subscribed to cable television. "Oh, it's not for me," said Vernon, "it's for my landlady, Mrs. Lowery. She still gets her television the old-fashioned way. When she heard that she would need a converter box to get her signal, she sent for and received one of those $40 discount cards from the government. I took it to Best Buy and bought a box for her, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to connect this thing to her television."

Despite the hour I agreed to go over to Vernon's place to see if I could be of any assistance. Vernon lived nearby in one of the old Mathews Flats on Skillman Avenue. For years he had rented an upstairs flat from the widowed Mrs. Lowery. In minutes I was greeted at the front door by Vernon and his dog, Rawson. He ushered me into the front room where Mrs. Lowery was seated on a sofa, her cat, Bliss, sleeping peacefully on her lap. We exchanged pleasantries and Vernon motioned me to a corner of the room where the old television, equipped only with a rabbit-eared antenna, sat atop a small bookcase. Beneath it was the converter box and what appeared to be a dozen tangled wires. A look of frustration was evident on Vernon's face. "I've tried everything," he said.

Now anyone the least bit acquainted with me knows full well that I have no aptitude whatever for things electronic. But I offered to give it a try. "Where are the instructions?" I asked with a feigned air of confidence. Vernon retrieved the cardboard box that had packaged the device and withdrew the instructions. "Did you even bother to read these?" I asked with an equally feigned air of disdain. "I did, I did" insisted Vernon. He handed me the instruction booklet. It consisted of 48 pages, half English half Spanish. A separate sheet, labeled "Quick Setup Guide," was inserted in the booklet. I looked at the booklet and then at the Quick Setup insert. "Let's start with the insert," I decided.

An hour later I gave up on the insert and reached for the booklet. Mrs. Lowery brought us coffee. Vernon and I were seated on the floor beneath the television, which was turned about so we'd have access to the set's connections. The converter came with a red wire, a yellow wire and a white wire, but no similarly color-coded entry ports existed on the back of the television. And there were two black cables. There seemed to be too many wires altogether. Nevertheless, we had exhausted every possible connection to no avail. "I guess we'll have to read the booklet after all," I said. I detected a smirk from Vernon. Rawson yawned and repaired to the other side of the room to sleep. Mrs. Lowery returned to her seat on the sofa.

The first three pages of the instruction booklet consisted of the usual "Important Safety Instructions." "We can skip these," I said. The fourth page was the Introduction, which thanked us for buying the machine. It also contained a Special Note which stated that "Digital TV broadcasts require an adequate signal strength from the antenna." I looked at Vernon. "Are you sure the signal is adequate?" Vernon looked at Mrs. Lowery. "Never had a problem before," she said calmly.

Next came the Table of Contents, then two pages devoted to the remote control, and another page of schematics. Finally, we arrived at the section concerning the connection to the TV. "Here we go," I said.

The first part of this section contained three pages of schematics and technical jargon. Then came three pages labeled "Remote Control Overview," one page labeled "Zoom Functions," which prompted Vernon and me to look at each other blankly, and finally several pages labeled "Main Menu." We looked carefully through this section, which included subsections entitled Auto Program, Auto Scan Digital Channels, Manual Channel Set, Password Code, Parental Control Settings, Closed Caption, Language, Sleep Timer, Smart Antenna (Optional), Time Zone, TV Aspect Ratio, and Reset Default Settings (What would someone like Mrs. Lowery need with all this stuff, we wondered), but still we could find nothing about connecting the converter to the television. There followed a Trouble Shooting Guide, an Index and a Limited Warranty page. Here we reached the point where the instructions began again in Spanish. "Can you read Spanish?" Vernon ventured.

We returned to the Troubleshooting Guide, but all of the symptoms and solutions listed were inapplicable to us because they assumed we had gotten farther along than we had. In fact, we were where we were hours before: nowhere.

At this point Mrs. Lowery got up and inspected the television, the converter box and the wires and cables. She took the color-coded wires from us. "These probably have no use. They look like they're supposed to be connected to a VCR or DVD player, which I don't have." She tossed them aside. She then took the black cables and handed the end of one to me. "See if it'll fit into one of these holes on the back of the television." To my surprise it did. She gave the other end to Vernon and instructed him to insert it in the converter box. If fit like a glove. She took the other cable and had me hook one end into another port on the television; she had Vernon hook the other end into the antenna itself. "Try it now," she said.

Sure enough the television came to life with a signal indicating a successful connection. Vernon handed her the remote control. "I already inserted the battery," he said somewhat boastfully. Mrs. Lowery worked the remote and before long was able to set the necessary menus. Soon we were watching television. It was now almost daylight and a morning news program came on the air. The first news report of the day was that the Congress had voted to extend the deadline for digital conversion of television airwaves from February to June. Vernon and I just looked at each other. "It's okay, boys," said Mrs. Lowery, "we'd have to make the switch one way or another, sooner or later." After a little while, though, we noticed that despite the good connection there were times when the picture on the television froze and broke up. It was very annoying. "My dear," said Mrs. Lowery, "I never had this problem with just the antenna. Frankly, I wouldn't call this an improvement." To which Vernon responded: "Welcome to the digital age, Mrs. Lowery."

Mrs. Lowery thanked us for our help. Vernon woke Rawson and showed me to the door before going up to his own apartment. As we left the room we heard Mrs. Lowery mutter, "The future sure ain't what it used to be."