When we were at Dad's last time his TV in the living room stopped working. I tried what I knew, but it wouldn't work. Since the TV Daughter watches in the bedroom was still working and I was busy gathering various papers, I didn't worry about it too much. We knew, though, that we needed to have it fixed or a new one in place for Dad when he got home.
Yesterday Brother finally went over to check on the TV. He had informed me (and Sister, who also tried to get it to work) that the TV was fine and we just didn't know how to turn it on. He told us Dad had this problem all the time, and it was just that he had it on the wrong channel and thus the cable didn't work. He finally went over yesterday to fix what I had obviously screwed up while I was there last time.
So he calls me. "Dad's TV is dead." Yes, I said I told you so. He proceeded to defend himself and his belief that I didn't know how to turn it on properly. Yes, he actually told me the problem was that I wasn't turning it on the correct way.
So now we're scrambling, trying to figure out where and how to get him a good buy on a flat screen TV. Hopefully we'll have something for him by this evening. Daughter and I will be heading out as soon as I get dressed and packed. The biggest challenge will be getting Cat into his crate before he figures out what's happening and goes into hiding. Kitten is too curious to hide. She's object, of course, but will be too interested in why Cat is complaining to be difficult to catch.