When my father first acquired his television store in 1976, the best sets on the showroom floor were consoles. Enormous pieces of furniture with wood cabinets and big flat tops perfect for bouquets of fake flowers. Usually playing The Six Million Dollar Man.
I kid. About the Six Million Dollar Man part. A sporting event was probably playing. But not on ESPN. That channel started in 1979.
In any case, my point is, console TVs were once the bees’ knees.
Not so anymore, of course. A TV deeper than 4 inches is considered so yesterday.
I was reminded of my dad’s old TV store and all the wonderful electronics it once contained today when my Beloved and I got up bright and early to recycle a bunch of old computer hardware at the county recycling event, a special production designed to help suburban hoarders lighten the load by giving them clearance to get rid of once useful stuff like latex paint, 1995 tax documents and bikes with flat tires.
And console TVs.
Fifteen minutes after the event began at 8 a.m., it was a madhouse! The parking lot was packed with six million recyclers, heavy lifters and SUVs filled with junk.
We got in line and in literally three minutes, we were relieved of our old drives, monitors and printers (not the car batteries, though, alas — those weren’t accepted).
Besides the amazingly quick and efficient service, I was overwhelmed with the amount of stuff people were unloading (us included). All those corrupt computers, busted television sets and ginormous laser printers are going into the garbage somewhere.
“Armaments, universal debt, and planned obsolescence—those are the three pillars of Western prosperity.”
― Aldous Huxley