"How Can You Not Have Your TV Set Up Yet?"

Relatively speaking, it's a minor issue.

I spent the whole of January unpacking the flat I lived in for a decade and putting “tons” of stuff, one car load at a time, into my Mini Clubman for the very short — half mile — trek to my new rental. It was roughly equivalent, I think, of sending a son or daughter off to college 23 or so times.

I was lucky to get this place but it’s not super difficult to see why a lot of people who beat me to it ended up passing: It’s on a hill, with one street above, one below, the house resting somewhere in the middle. No garage. Lots of stairs. Steep stairs. Forty of them up from the bottom street. That gets you to the first landing. Maybe 20 more pavers to the bottom gate. Or, just more steep incline if you opt for the middle gate (the brutal joke of the bottom gate is that once you open it there’s a dozen or so more pavers up). Coming down it’s easier, but further, with two sets of stairs and then, as your body will grumble about, the return trip back up to the top for the next two arm loads.

My thighs are gonna look like Deebo Samuel’s in a couple of months.

A new neighbor saw me one night, going up and down from the bottom street. Sweating. Gasping. Relentlessly carrying a bunch of shit I’ll probably get rid of later. I told him I only lived a short distance away and not having a traditional job left me a lot of time to make these runs. “It’s a slippery slope,” he said, knowingly, not talking about the steps.

Indeed it was. I made a lot more trips than I expected. I am still making them But movers are expensive and there was a lot of stuff I didn’t want to risk getting damaged. I saved the movers for all the big heavy stuff — which happened Monday. And look, I did tell them there were a LOT of steps. But yeah, they were a little stunned when they got here. One guy noted that even when stuff wasn’t that heavy — though a lot of it was — going back to the top was…deflating.

I don’t know how they got the ping-pong table down there. Didn’t want to look.

Anyway, I shockingly had to make still more solo trips on Tuesday. And still some to come today.

But the reason for this update is that, uh, the TV is not set up. I know, I know. How can that be? (In my defense, the book nook lives again — wooooot! — almost completely set up, and it’s spectacular. I also, since I asked in a previous post about everybody else’s “viewing situation,” want the chance to make this new space for the TV super vibey and comfortable and as close to perfect as possible. There’s just — as anyone can imagine after a move — a lot of boxes. Some of them blocking other boxes. This house has a magical layout, concealing the fact that it’s actually not that big inside. At all. Fine by me. But, wait, where was the TV again? Where’s the Sonos? Oh, shit, is there a box with the wires in it?

Photo by Pablo García Saldaña on Unsplash

Beyond that, there’s some debate about where to put it. I mean, it has to go down in this cavern-like warren of a room that will by my bedroom (my kids want something up in the living room, but that’s for later because I only have one TV). And daddy needs to work.

Except that, yeah, it’s unsettled where to put it, how to construct the “viewing area” etc. for maximum enjoyment of the Criterion Channel and Miyazaki movies and ersatz filler. So the TV critic part of my multiverse is temporarily offline. Hell, I even lost my laptop charger for a while. Also, late at night there was this chilling discovery — where had the wine corkscrew gone?

Who can work in these horrific conditions!?

Little bit of an omnishambles over here. But it’s coming together. Pepper the dog loves the place. There’s a fenced yard so he’s back, apparently, to being able to eat his own poop if he wants to — life is gloriously better than those boring short walks where dad picks it up.

Anyway, it’s Wednesday. The TV is still not set up. I think I almost kinda-maybe know where it’s going. I hate watching anything on my laptop so I try to avoid that. It’s TV or bust. If my hamstrings weren’t shredded and my back was intact, I might be able to cross that off today. But then again, timing-wise, it might be another run back to the old place to fill up the car again, a muscle relaxant and some craft beer. So, no promises, but I thought I’d update you.

As always, keep the lighthouse in sight, people.