Oh, here's something else weird. Last night Andrew and I were listening to a CD on the stereo as we talked and read and things. When it was over Andrew went to put on some different music and was very confused when no CD was forthcoming when he hit the eject button. The little CD tray came out, but there was no CD in it.
He hadn't done this immediately after it'd finished; we'd been talking and stuff, so he looked over at me for confirmation. "There's a CD in there, right?"
From my angle I couldn't see that the CD hadn't come out, so I was confused as to why he was so confused. "Yeah, the R.E.M. one," I said, in that way that people in science-fiction stories say "You're in St. Louis" or "The year is 2315" when the warp-travelling hero of the storyfirst arrives in his new environs. You know. that I suppose I'll humor you by telling you something obvious way.
"It's not there!" he said, and indeed, it was not. The CD player appeared to be functioning perfectly, it had opened without complaint and didn't make any funny noises or anything. It was just as if there hadn't been a CD there at all. Then I understood why he'd had to ask me if there really was a CD in there.
My best and only advice was "Try it again." (At least that's better than what I was thinking, which was more like Maybe it's possessed. It ate the CD! I didn't know it could do that.) So Andrew closed and opened it again, to the same result: no problems but no CD.
Lacking a Philips-head screwdriver (for the moment; Andrew says we can get one when we visit his family this weekend), we can't tear the thing apart and get the CD out. We can play CDs on the computer, of course, but it's not the same. And Andrew's still troubled. Especially as we stopped playing the vinyl earlier in the day because the needle seemed to be acting strangely (and the tape deck and radio haven't worked since long before I got here, and only one of the speakers works much of the time ... anyone want to buy us a new stereo?).
Besides, it's just weird. "I've never seen anything like this before!" he'd said, and, indeed, neither have I.
And now I see that the CD tray is half-open, not moving at all (which doesn't surprise me, really, given that there's a CD stuck in there). It's mocking me, just a little.
He hadn't done this immediately after it'd finished; we'd been talking and stuff, so he looked over at me for confirmation. "There's a CD in there, right?"
From my angle I couldn't see that the CD hadn't come out, so I was confused as to why he was so confused. "Yeah, the R.E.M. one," I said, in that way that people in science-fiction stories say "You're in St. Louis" or "The year is 2315" when the warp-travelling hero of the storyfirst arrives in his new environs. You know. that I suppose I'll humor you by telling you something obvious way.
"It's not there!" he said, and indeed, it was not. The CD player appeared to be functioning perfectly, it had opened without complaint and didn't make any funny noises or anything. It was just as if there hadn't been a CD there at all. Then I understood why he'd had to ask me if there really was a CD in there.
My best and only advice was "Try it again." (At least that's better than what I was thinking, which was more like Maybe it's possessed. It ate the CD! I didn't know it could do that.) So Andrew closed and opened it again, to the same result: no problems but no CD.
Lacking a Philips-head screwdriver (for the moment; Andrew says we can get one when we visit his family this weekend), we can't tear the thing apart and get the CD out. We can play CDs on the computer, of course, but it's not the same. And Andrew's still troubled. Especially as we stopped playing the vinyl earlier in the day because the needle seemed to be acting strangely (and the tape deck and radio haven't worked since long before I got here, and only one of the speakers works much of the time ... anyone want to buy us a new stereo?).
Besides, it's just weird. "I've never seen anything like this before!" he'd said, and, indeed, neither have I.
And now I see that the CD tray is half-open, not moving at all (which doesn't surprise me, really, given that there's a CD stuck in there). It's mocking me, just a little.
The pessimist's point of view....
Date: 2004-08-26 07:45 am (UTC)grin =)
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Date: 2004-08-26 07:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-26 08:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-26 09:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-26 05:10 pm (UTC)