Mr Toad's Folly (No, not really)

 

Last week I discovered my tumour had increased by 2 millimetres. The same day I bought a 65inch wall mounted TV. The alternative could have been worse. A 2-millimetre wall mounted TV would be poor compensation for a 65inch tumour. 

The two events were not directly related, the decision to splurge having been taken a week earlier. We were visiting friends who had one and, rather like Mr Toad, immediately fell in love. I remarked wistfully and with a degree of resentment that our inoffensive and perfectly adequate 43inch Panasonic—twenty years old and still going strong would likely outlive me. The grievance was sharpened by the fact that over the years I had squirrelled away money to buy its replacement when the Panasonic finally flickered and died.

“Then we’ll do it,” my wife said. “We’ll go out and buy one.” She wasn’t too happy about the size, preferring I suspect its smaller 55inch equivalent. 

I spent a deliriously happy week researching technology I’d never heard of before, accessed Which and scoured obscure YouTube videos on the merits of Oled screens vs those powered by RGB min-leds, organic, inorganic, screen burn,  so that when we finally descended upon our shop of choice, Richer Sounds, I wouldn’t look a complete and utter idiot. That was the theory at least.

To my intense relief, my wife was immediately seduced by a large screen—yes 65 inches eye-stopping in its clarity and richness. We both were, until a salesman intervened to reinforce our decision. Yes, he said RGB mini-led technology had its merits. It was less reflective of light, a bonus when watching on bright sunny days, but there’s a price. Such TVs lack the richness and clarity of OLED. He directed our gaze back to the TV we had already set our hearts on—which came with free speakers and a soundbar. 

“Why the good price?” I asked. 

“They’re 2025 models,” he said. “The 2026 model is almost twice the price for—” he shrugged, “fairly minimal enhancements.” 

And so now we await delivery and installation. And my mind goes back to my first TV experience in the mid-fifties when the appearance of an aerial on a chimney denoted an immediate upgrade in status. No. 10 Ribblesdale was the first in our street to boast a small 14 inch black and white TV. From that moment on we wiped their front window clean with our noses, catching glimpses of Rin Tin Tin and Robin Hood. Little did I suspect then the future — nor the future Mr Toad who tends to prefer books to the screen but had to have a 65-inch TV!