Forgive Me, Bessie

So I did it. Pulled the plug. Finally succumbed to the siren song of high-def TV and threw out my TV of 16 years, Old Bessie. The guys from Video Only installed my new flat screen amidst a plethora of cables and wires, promised me I'd be ecstatic with the enhanced picture, and tossed Old Bessie in the back of their truck.

"Be careful with her," I told them. "She's been good to me." They looked at me like I was nuts. And off they drove, leaving me with my slick new 32" inch Panasonic flat screen high def TV. Whoohoo, party time! I nestled on my sofa, turned it on and awaited nirvana.
Or not. Colors were muddy, faces were orange, and every program on every channel looked like it was filmed in the the dark and dank cave of Saddam Hussein. What the heck?
After making a few panicked phone calls, I learned that a high-def TV is not enough to provide a high-def picture: I must have a high-def cable service as well.
Don't I already have that with DIRECTV? Uh, turns out no.
Okeefine, fine. So I made an appointment for the installation of a new high-def receiver and high-def satellite, all at an additional high-def monthly cost, mind you. But hey, to express their thanks for my customer loyalty, DIRECTV threw in free HBO for three months. This will enable me to watch premium classics such as Police Academy IV, The Wedding Singer and more recent favorites like Knocked Up and Dude, Where's My Car?
After suffering through Oompa-Loompa-colored faces for three days, the DIRECTV technician arrived and made the necessary swaps. Finally, the moment I'd been waiting for! I nestled on my sofa, turned on my slick new 32" inch Panasonic flat-screen high-def TV, and awaited nirvana.
Or not. There they were, the same muddy faces, same dark and dank colors. My slick new 32" inch Panasonic flat-screen high-def TV obviously needed adjusting. Okeefine.

But when I retrieved the TV remote to look for any buttons that might provide a clue, I winced and gingerly set it back down. The damn thing resembled the cockpit of the Colombia Space Shuttle. To touch anything on that remote would be to invite hell's fury.
Which might be an improvement. Because right now, in some electronic recycling center, it appears that Old Bessie's having the last laugh. She's reminding me, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
Sigh... Amen, Bessie. Amen.