War of the TV cabinets

It all started the day we upgraded the square footage of our TV. “Who has tiny TVs anymore?” said the trend. “Buy the one as big and as wide as the wall in your house, and you’ll have it all.”

We’ve never had it all, but we modestly elevated the width and breadth of our 32-inch screen for a 55-inch screen, added a soundbar, and screened movies and shows with smug smiles on our faces. We love our entertainment.

The problem with upgrades is everything else looks shabby around it, and the huge TV cabinet I had scored years ago looked like a behemoth sitting in my living room with the sleek, slim new TV barely fitting inside it. It was meant for a big, fat TV from the past.

“Let’s hang the TV on the wall, honey,” I said to my husband. “Let’s get rid of the big cabinet.”

I am mostly not a prodder, though he would beg to differ. To him, removing the TV cabinet meant finally enclosing the front entryway that we had moved 5 feet to the left, where we installed French doors.

The old front door entrance was hiding behind a curtain that our TV cabinet was sitting in front of. It was something that had needed to be done for a long while but not something fun to do (so goes the ever-loving life of a do-it-yourself homeowner).

For several years the TV stayed inside the giant cabinet, and my annoyance with it grew. I found small ways of bringing it up, nicely, calmly.

“Babe, let’s move the TV out of the cabinet,” I’d say.

He’d say, “There’s nothing to set it on. You need to find a TV stand first.”

Which was his nice way of putting it off further.

After scouring thrift stores, garage sales and FB marketplaces, last November I hit on the perfect one. For 75 big ones I had found the perfect vintage, modern piece that only needed light sanding and a bit of stain for revival. We made a day of heading just east of Canton, hauling the piece out of a house and bringing it home where it sat behind my sofa for months.

“Let’s sell the old TV cabinet,” I said. “I’ll put it online and see what we can get for it.”

This was my ploy for getting the process moving: out with the old and in with the new.

He said, “I need to close in that entryway and run new outlets back there before that happens.”

To this I said, “At least the old cabinet will be gone, and the TV can sit on the new credenza while it’s being worked on.”

In my mind this was the perfect solution. We hauled that monster outside, where it’s still sitting in the garage. It can sit there for eternity.

The beginning of summer saw him begin on closing in the entryway. I don’t do construction, but I offer the best help one could need: a cold drink, a hot meal and more. He’s a busy man, so whenever he could fit it in, he did.

Electricity was run, outlets installed, drywall hung, texture carefully applied and finally barn-siding wainscoting installed. This brought us to Labor Day 2018 when he painted and finished, readying for the hanging of the TV.

If you’ve ever hung a TV on the wall and didn’t hurt each other while doing it, I applaud you. TVs are much heavier and bulkier than they look when trying to size them up on your wall, and the smiles that are emblazoned on the box the wall mount comes in are fake.

After 1,000 years (technically five), 3,000 fights, arguments on stain color and a freshly sanded and varnished credenza done by me, 200 screws, and much despair and angst, the TV has found a home on the wall of what once was our front doorway.

Later that evening as we enjoyed a movie and the edginess of a joint project wore away, we smiled. Even though I remember all our joint projects with a grimace (entire house ceiling drywall, room painting with a professional painter and pouring our own concrete patio), the joy of completion, like gazing upon your newborn baby’s face, helps that turmoil fade away.

A quote from the Netflix series, “Ozark” — quite apt — and one that had resonated with me came to my mind: “If my wife and I had fought as much as you two do, maybe we’d still be together.” I cannot disagree.