On a mission

The joy in owning new technology really shines through when that new technology stops working.
 
My surround-sound system/DVD player/CD player/stereo/sole source of most of my entertainment decided to die sometime over the weekend. It was only 10 months old, and I swear I have a fly in my apartment that lasted longer. It kicked into an annoying cycle of going back and forth between being in standby and turning on, clicking each time the standby light flashed from red to green.
 
I don't exactly like asking for help, so the mission to fix this thing started with a little work at home. I tried everything I could think of, from various button-combination pushes to plugigng it into other outlets to scanning online to see if I could find a similar problem elsewhere.
 
Finally, out of frustration, I went where no Trinko has gone before... the manual. It told me to go another place no Trinko ever dared to go... the 1-800 help line for Philips.
 
The good folks at the Philips support center made sure my trip there was a long, painful, memorable one. I sat on hold for about half an hour. An operator finally picked up the phone and asked these valuable questions:
 
* Is the unit plugged in?
 
* Have you tried plugging it into a different outlet?
 
* Have you unplugged it long enough to reset it?
 
After hearing the appropriate responses to each of these questions, my new friend offered me his expert diagnosis: "It appears your unit is malfunctioning." Which pretty much explains why I called in the first place.
 
Oddly enough, my new friend's computer was unable to find the nearest repair shop for me to get it fixed while it's still under warranty. In a strange bit of luck, all of his listings popped up locations in Ohio, which is not where I live (now). I went online and found the nearest one ot me, in a place called Luray.
 
Luray... is not the kind of place you'd expect to take your electronics to get them fixed. It has something of a roughneck reputation, full of mountain folks who are still learning the modern ways of the 1940s. In the ranking of nearby towns, it generally falls below Front Redneck... err, excuse me, Front Royal.
 
It was also surprising to find that this little town could be the only place nearby that would service it. Not Winchester. Not Harrisonburg. Not Manassas. Luray. Go figure.
 
So began the car trip to Luray, which is about 35 miles and 35 years away from here. It's a long, winding voyage over a mountain, through the woods, to grandmother's shop we go.
 
The kindly old woman who awaited me there must've taken the same class as the guy at the support center. She asked the same questions he did. Then she plugged it into the wall and heard the constant clicking from flipping back and forth between on and standby. She then declared, "It's not working. It appears your unit is malfunctioning."
 
These are the people I'm trusting to fix my audio system.