My wife has left town to be with her parents for Thanksgiving. If youíve been reading my column for very long you know I usually donít do well in her absence.
This trip will prove no different.
First night alone, Iím halfway through a homemade bowl of her chili, when the TV freezes up, goes blank, then pops back on with a screen full of static snow.
Needless to say I panicked.
Iím quite fond of that big screen full of wonderful entertainment options for my viewing pleasure.
I now have a problem.
What do I do?
As always I call my wife.
Not a good solution.
She informed me that Iíd have to call our satellite provider myself this time.
With trepidation I called the number and spoke to a robot that gave me all manner of suggestions, none of which I could use.
As I mulled over pulling the recliner into the bedroom where the working television was, a human voice came on the line.
Wes from Montana.
After nearly 45 minutes of following his directions and forcing myself into crevices of our entertainment center that I feared I would not be able to free myself from,the screen came to life.
Wes and I had fixed the TV.
When Iím over at my parentís house for Thanksgiving, and am asked what I am thankful for, Iím going to say, with heartfelt gratitude, I am grateful for Wes from Montana.
He absolutely saved my holiday weekend.
Now Iím off to heat the chili up and finish the Ken Burns documentary on the History of Country Music.
If the microwave goes down, Iím finished.
See you out there.