The headline is not a total exaggeration but very nearly true. One of the major disruptions to our lives, now that we have come back to London after a two e- generation time span away, was our inability to manipulate the television. We could not find the programmes we wanted, at the time we wanted. Also most of them were totally incomprehensible: most the programmes concerned other people making food, doing up and selling houses, minor public personae making public fools of themselves; 'urban' characters starting public 'wars' over minor commercial services. Forget the spy scandals or 'people' coming back from the dead.
It seems we are in the Voyeur Age of TV.
With desperate bravery I tackled Google to find someone local who could fix our TV aerial - it was the 'smart' TV that had told us this was the problem. Enter David English and his son Alfie. After some time lifting up shelves and opening up skirting boards to reveal vast viper nests of unidentified cables, the problem was identified.
The previous owner of our house - may all the Gods look kindly upon him because I do not - had taken his SKY box with him, thus leaving the TV aerial cable unconnected to the aerial discreetly and perilously balanced on our (Grade II listed) butterfly roof. Dave and Alfie re-connected the two halves.
Now we can see TV programmes as they are being broadcast, get the news of the last 12 hours in which it happened. We can both operate the TV remote.
Not to exaggerate too greatly, Dave and Alfie saved our sanity, our marriage (oh, the squabbles because we could not work 'it') and very probably our lives.
Absorbed in watching the moving screen, rather than crossly pondering over many times read books and newspapers, has somewhat reduced our consumption of wine - a.k.a 'alcohol'.
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