open letter to my old TV
by Brian Danger Murphy
i left you on the sidewalk last night with a blue stickie on your face that said “free tv – it works too!”.
this morning, you were gone.
i left you last night with the guilt a mother feels when leaving her baby behind in a basket at the door of a stranger. no farewell speech, no going away party – just one unceremonious last glance down at you on the sidewalk as i turned away.
remember when we met at sears? the dives we lived in? the 5th floor walkups we traveled together?
i want to let you know that it was hard for me to let you go – we shared so, so many experiences together. for so long, you were my portal to the world and my escape from reality. we played games – you met my friends and family – we saw janet jackson’s boob – we cried on 9/11 – we cheered as the sox beat the yankees – you made many bad dates tolerable.
i met someone younger, slimmer, more attractive and DTV ready – which has led to leaving you. but you knew that and saw it coming, watching me install her from your corner of our apartment.
sorry if i didn’t say too much last night – but the end of relationships can be awkward…
thank you for your many years of companionship – you were always there for me when i needed a friend. sorry if i never told you that.
goodbye…
[thanks Brian.]

that is to funny. i felt the same way when i got my new treo and gave up my cell phone.
Did you ever see the commercial for the IKEA lamp that got put out in the rain? Hilarious as well. I’ve kept my old (15yrs) Sony because I cannot bear to throw out a working product, but maybe I’ll leave it out like you did.
That always makes me sad. I do that with cars too…
NCTRNL… you leave your old cars out on the street with a note on them?
My friend Mark has a somewhat related empathy for the single gloves and mittens he sees sprinkled like swollen fleece-stuffed jimmies in our thoroughfares.
He feels badly when he sees a sodden piece of solitary winterwear mashed into the pavement or floating–or worse yet, drowned–in the brackish water between rail ties on the subway track. He feels pangs of melancholy for its mate, no doubt still snug in a peacoat pocket or a purse, soon, too, to find itself cast aside, newly useless and forever destined to be cold and alone, bound for a landfill or a homeless person’s shopping cart.
Oh God. I think I just depressed myself into a crying jag. Wait. Wait.
Yup. Here it comes.
stubZee – there is no more heartwrencing sight than the dead and dying umbrellas left on the streets of new york after a rainshower.
we hold them close to us and take comfort under them in our time of need – they protect us, make us feel safe and defend us from the elements. yet we quickly discard them with no respect when they sustain an injury to the wind. we step over their dead bodies that litter the streets after a storm – disgusted at their failure.
a moment of silence for all our fallen umbrellas and mateless winterwear….
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