Timed Out

 My wife and I were initially confounded by the television in our bedroom. After years of dutiful service, it was taking little appliance breaks during afternoon and evening TV binges. For twenty to thirty minutes it would go dark and not make a sound. The little red light in the lower right hand corner that would assure us that there was power blinked lazily as if sending a message to anyone who happened to read Morse code. Not a skill my wife or I have. 

Then, as if caught in an embarrassing faux pas, our broadcasting day would resume as if nothing had happened prior. "What's that? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think you were going to want to see that last bit. Go ahead and lean back, relax, and we'll get back to the show." 

"Yeah, but we couldn't wake you up with the remote control or anything."

"Oh? Sorry about that."

"We even tried unplugging you for a minute or two."

"Hmmm."

"Then we plugged you back in and that little red light was still blinking away."

"Gee. How do you figure that?"

Well, since we don't live in a world of completely sentient home entertainment just yet, that dialogue never really occurred. Instead, we called our son, who has forgotten more about TVs than I have learned in my entire adult life. "It's the solder in the connection to the power. When it gets hot, it shorts out. Once it cools down it comes back on."

Oh. 

"You should get a new TV." 

Oh.

Maybe we could ask the TV for a second opinion.