01:00 AM EST on Wednesday, January 14, 2004

At this point in our marriage, I didn't even bother to question why having a DVD player means so much to him. I didn't mention that our VCR is relatively new and functions perfectly. I didn't point out that all the movies we own are on videotape. And I didn't even remind him that DVDs cost more than videos. I just chipped in with my parents and bought him a DVD player for Christmas.

To be honest, my sudden acquiescence had a lot more to do with my own technological epiphany than with any chance that I had somehow transformed into one of those quiet, his-wish-is-my-command kind of wives. He knows that. I'm sure of it.

It's true. After years of thinking that technology was only a means to an end, a way to accomplish tasks, I've come to see the light. Maybe it was the day my computer wouldn't start, the same computer that my husband suggested might make a quaint exhibit in a museum. Or maybe it was the guy on the Apple help line who guffawed into the phone when I mentioned the model number. "Oh, for that one, you'll need someone in our legacy department." That's what he said. Legacy.

That's when I realized that my I'll-only-buy-what-I-absolutely-need philosophy had its limitations and that maybe, after all these years, my husband was right. Technology is meant to be fun. Why else would there be cell phones that take pictures and electronic organizers that play music?

And why else on Christmas morning would there have been such a look of absolute glee on my husband's face?

And so it began. Armed with a flashlight and a screwdriver, he proceeded to move our equipment around. The speakers and the receiver over here. The CD player and the VCR over there. Connecting this and disconnecting that until camera, lights, action! Our new DVD player was up and running!

Just one problem. There was no sound on the TV.

First he tried remote No. 1. And then remote No. 2. Punched some buttons on remote No. 3 and then some more on remote No. 4. Still nothing. "I think you can combine these into a universal remote," he said.

Now that really would be fun.

His next move was to unplug all the wires and move the equipment around again. Still no sound.

"I could call a repairman," I said. He dropped the screwdriver and shot me precisely the same look as he did last year when I suggested that he borrow a handsaw from a neighbor. I guess calling a repairman isn't fun.

Later that evening, the kids watched Lizzie McGuire. Good thing it was a repeat because it's hard to keep up with that closed captioning thing.

The next morning, the man I married was up at dawn with his flashlight and screwdriver. This time, he was into the manuals. All five of them. Still no sound on the TV.

Being the reasonable man he is, the repairman agreed to come out and take a look. After an amazingly brief visit, sound was restored and the guy drove away.

"Was it a short circuit?" I asked my husband.

"No."

"Did we need new wiring?"

"No."

"Some new part?"

"No."

"Then what was the problem?"

"He switched the input channel on the TV."

"What did he say?"

"Sorry I have to charge you for just pushing one little button."

Yes indeed. Technology is fun.

Rita Lussier can be reached at ReetsAL [at] aol.com or by mail c/o Features Department, The Providence Journal, 75 Fountain Street, Providence, RI 02902.