SAVAGE SATURDAY

 

22)   Sunday Evening, February 9th – Serious Men in White Shirts!

 

In Purley, Miz Lottie Soames swore by the liberal station – from its less than accurate weather forecasters all the way downslope to its network sports commentators; its tousled boy-toy anchor Ted Fraser and the distinguished Evan Augsberg holding her trust as tightly as she held the remote so that, once the Capitol moon was high in the sky and halftime rolled around, Westy surrendered control of the channel to her, one of those deals that kept the large, querulous family from exploding.  The Skins were holding tough – two interceptions of Goff (the last in the Rams’ red zone), three long field goals and a blocked punt had sufficed to pull Washington to within 28-23 in a shootout.  Now, as one of the damn cats rubbed his shinbone, he pleaded…

          “OK… it’s a… a cold cream commercial… you promised I could just look…”

          “It’s cold,” Lottie snapped, “and I like cream…”

          “Not that kind of cream… look, it’s over,” General Westmoreland Soames pointed, “now it’s that lawyer drummin’ up business, that one you said you didn’t trust…”

          Miz Lottie glowerered, but clicked… that lawyer did have shifty eyes.  No good! The cable station showed a circle of Wizards huddled angrily round their coach with the NBA score crawl showing a twelve point deficit already, then cut to the same cold cream commercial.  Resolutely, she clicked back to news with Fraser and Dru Capehart…”

          “Satisfied?  Now hush up and learn somethin’…”

          “Didn’t even show the time,” an aggrieved Westy muttered, “…the score…”

          Ted Fraser shuffled the papers in his fists… as if the anchorman was, on his own, making spot decisions as to what and what was not newsworthy.  “In other news, tonight’s the night… all you out there in TV-land who haven’t upgraded to modulated ultra high digital technology, you’re headed for a nasty surprise in less than twelve days now…”

          “That’s right, Ted,” back-bencher Dru added, “and controversy still swirls around the transition, as it has almost from the first since President Rivers confirmed the speed-up of change-over despite the untimely terrorism-related deaths of our Vice President-elect on Flight #239 and all that came after, and then the blizzard in Wisconsin that pushed Super Sunday back another week.  The latest Fancher poll shows that, despite over a year of messages, warnings and publicity, forty-one percent do not believe the government is telling the truth about free television… well, at least special events like, it would seem, the Superbowl…going the way of dinosaurs, or the horse and buggy or that, to date, there will be only seven outlets on basic, expanded or premium cable that will be accessible, in addition to five new stations.  Among those without access to cable or satellite, or with household annual incomes under fifty thousand, that figure rises to fifty-three…”

          And, to prove the veritas of her statement, Westy’s eyes followed the two hand-drawn pies onscreen, each with only two slices… the blue slice bigger in the pie to the left, smaller in the one to the right.

          “Some conspiracy theories come true!” Fraser chuckled, and then all but blatting out that he had a top of the line Mad-Def set on order, cable too, and probably a satellite.  “One bunch who aren’t complaining are the retailers and manufacturers of the new digital hi-tech and reporter Jerry Eames is in the midst of a shopping frenzy at the One World Mall, out in Montgomery County… Jerry?”

          “They just usin’ that news to sell more televisions,” Westy dismissed the spot, and checked at his watch.  Nine more minutes until the Skins kicked off to start the second half.   “We got Raoul’s converter, we covered.  Now, can I get my hoops back?”

          “Just one minute, you,” and Lottie pointed to the television.  “That boy – he have red hair that ain’t natural.   Nothin’ natural ‘bout that boy, wouldn’t believe a thing he say…”

          Red-haired Jerry was grinning foolishly in the midst of a hastily fashioned media station at the dead center of the Giga-Plex as cameramen representing all of the local stations, even the Spanish ones trailed a handful of glum, frazzled shoppers as they rushed to beat the ten o’clock closing deadline.  He’d corralled a prize… Mark Tenison, Mark-Down-Mark in person… face glowing, tie askew and ready to rock… standing in front of a Dominator… not a cardboard cutout but the real set, finally arrived from Cluj, Romania and planted at the center of the circle of lesser models like a High Druid priest looming over supplicants.

          “I’m here with Mark, Mark Tenison…” Eames clarified, “he’s the store manager out here at Giga-Plex and Mark… Mark?”

          “Mark-down Mark in the Hizzouse!” the manager assured this equally-caffeinated telejournalist, rotating his right fist as if he were mixing cookie dough batter.  “Open and doing business until ten pee em tonight for all the lords and ladies Giga who want to flock on down and pluck up one of our amazing holiday bargains.

          “Holly… holiday?” the roving reporter stammered.

“Heck yeah!” Jerry chirruped, “it’s OK if I say that, isn’t it?  We got your Chinese New Year, your Groundhog Day… love that little critter, your Valentine’s Day Thursday and then it’s the beginning of our whole Presidents’ Day weekend!  It’s a little slow at the moment… the game, I understand… but over the next two weeks, we expect thousands of last minute shoppers, getting their hands on all they can before the lights go out at midnight, a week from Thursday, or Friday, if you will.  I’ve see people buying flatscreens, handhelds… even that bunch over there, waving coupons… they’re trying to pick up converter boxes and get them home before the witching hour…”

Jerry’s cameraman panned across the store, capturing only a few straggling shoppers and maybe half a dozen looky-loos critically regarding a pyramid of cute, red, heart-shaped (but already quickly obsoleting) CD/DVD players.

          Mark sighed.  Damn straight he’d send a copy of this tape to Waco… in fact, he could think of a few ways to have more copies sent, ostensibly from ordinary viewers, impressed with the manager’s prowess.  “It’s been crazy all day, Jerry and we’ve been staying open that extra hour and until midnight starting next Friday when the holiday bargains go on sale… did I mention Mardi Gras after the Superbowl?  We’ve brought in dozens of temps, three financial specialists…” and he waved towards the tech booth, next to which was a festive tent, beneath which three serious men in white shirts appeared to be following the game, “…to handle first-time credit applications and, Jerry…”

          “Go ahead, Mark…”

          “We’ve got Dominators, Jerry, the biggest, meanest MDTVs on the market today except for those hundred fifty something Panasonics, which… Jerry… are still only available by special order.”  And then, Tenison slapped the giant television on its backside, as if it were a horse that had just taken the fifth at Pimlico by six lengths, after pulling away in the stretch.  “We’ve got the Dominators in stock… here! Jerry… and, starting Friday, at a low, low President’s Day price, as low as two hundred eighty-nine monthly with approved credit.  Total, show the world what this baby can do…”

          Ed Skinner, standing obligingly by at a video camera to the side of the tent, pointed a clicker and the huge Romanian television roared into life, showing Jerry, Mark and the television they were gaping at again and again as the live feed played back onto itself, a winding curve into endless replication.

          “Fan-tastic…” Jerry gushed.

          And Ted Fraser, offscreen, but tossed out of his anchorman’s cone of impartiality by the breadth and volume of the Dominator, squealed “Where do I go to sign up?”

          “Just come on up to Giga-Plex anytime this weekend… and, as if you needed any more incentive,” Mark coaxed his unseen audience, “all day Saturday before the Superbowl will be… Party Day!  That’s right… free cake and nickel hotdogs, balloons for the kids and we’ve got Big Sonny… that’s right, Jerry… L. B. Sonnenschein, himself, up from home base in Waco, Texas to personally present a Dominator to the Witworth School for Orphans in Silver Spring.  Plus, there’ll be former Baltimore placekicker Jarlo Knupp, clowns, music by the Soft Shell Dixieland Combo and, of course, the delicious Giga-Grrrlz

          Jerry had planned to pretend to dab his face with a handkerchief, but found, to his dismay, that he was sweating profusely, so the act was genuine.  “I think we get the picture…” he said, warily now, because if people were going to be looking at him, close-up, on a screen as big as that, he’d need better makeup… and a deodorant too, for who knew what senses the big foreign televisions could transmit!

          “So come on down…” Mark varied pitch as Bob Barker used to say, he had plenty more, but then noticed that red lights on the cameras were winking out as their operators prepared to pack and move on to the next assignment, “… I, I… thanks, Jerry, got merchandise to move…”

          Off-camera now, Eames gestured the crew to cease recording and began to stutter again as he asked: “M-Mister Mark, Mark… can you tell me just what’s the difference between Ultra High Def, Ultimate High Def and Modulated Hi-Def?

          Tenison winked.  “About fifteen thousand dollars!  But remember… we’ve got EZ-Credit and three financial specialists here to…”

          “Okay,” answered the red-haired reporter, although he still had no idea what the man from Giga-Plex (or, for that matter, any of the experts) was talking about.  “R-Remember, you owe me!”

          “Those on?” Tenison snarled at the cameraman, who shook his head.  “You know, I understand the timing, but showing this empty store full of beautiful shit and no customers sends a wrong message.  I’ll give you a pass because nobody’s watching your station tonight, but come back a week from Friday… not Saturday, Saturday will be too crazy… and you’ll get plenty of coverage.  If it looks kosher, come around back to the loading dock early Saturday morning, before we open… and then you’ll owe me…”

          “A Haier-46, remember?” Eames reminded the manager, bouncing up and down like a new puppy.  Ed Skinner shaking his head, trundled a dolly of marked down iPod 13s (the ones with that bad habit of catching fire) back to the tech center under the splashy tent to give Thunder and another tech, McNally… a total, hopeless nerd… some backup.  While those few purchasing  new MHD sets seemed confident in their ability to hook them up, there was a long line of cheap grousers, mostly holding converter boxes, who’d been held up while the geeks were sneaking peeks at their own devices and Tenison enjoyed his considerably less than fifteen minutes of fame. 

“They’re back,” Ed said.  “Rams fumbled the kickoff!  We could actually do this…”

“Do you want to fuckin’ do this on the unemployment line?” hollered Mark Down Mark, making a grab for Ed’s device and failing.  He pushed through the line and around back of the table, waving at Thunder’s line of disgruntled deplorables

          “Next!”

 

 

¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾  ¾

 

@ VISIT THESE OTHER GENERISIS SERIAL ABOMINATIONS…

 

THE GOLDEN DAWN                     BLACK HELICOPTERS

MEMP’IS!