I did it! I absolutely did it. Totally and completely. After months, and even years. Waiting, procrastinating, dawdling, worrying, researching, testing, praying, previewing and then praying some more.
And then finally, I pulled the plug.
No … I believe the correct term is: I cut the cord!
You know what I’m talking about here, right? The cable cord? The wire that comes into your house and brings 3,200 channels of live, 24-7 non-stop content … none of which you actually watch. It just flows in like a raging mountain stream, you pay for it, it flows back out, and then you say, “Yep, hit me again next month.”
And it goes on like this month-after-month, year-after-year. Paying for a premium service you don’t use – I mean, I’ve never watched a regional sports network in my life, but I had them! – to the tune of thousands of dollars a year. (I would say millions, but the good journalist in me who values accuracy thinks that might be too low.)
Only, now I’m through with all that. For the first time in my adult life, and even back to my childhood, I do not have a cable “cabling” into my house. Nope. Now I’m “streaming.”
I’m a card-carrying cord-cutter and a newly-brainwashed … er, -inducted … STREAMER! (This is a fancy way of saying I took all the money I spent on cable and gave it to a bunch of streaming content providers that I will never watch. But who cares? It’s high tech, and I feel fancy!)
It’s great out here in the land of the cord cutters. Liberating. Adventurous. A remote control for something called a “Fire Stick” that I can’t for the life of me figure out. (Until I realize I’m holding it backwards, and then the buttons all sort of make sense.)
In addition to that bit of knowledge, I’ve learned a few other important things since I got rid of my ubiquitous cable box. Important, deep, insightful, even existential things. Like how when you give it up, you will have no idea what time it is. No idea!
Because here’s what nobody tells you: It turns out the little digital clock on the cable box was the only device in the house you actually used to tell time. Not your phone. Not your wall clocks. Not your watch. Not the sun. Shoot, if it’s dark out, I would go look at the cable box and say, “Yep, guess it’s night.”
And now it’s gone and I have no earthly idea what time it is. Do I start cooking dinner? Do I go to work? Have I been binge-watching superhero movies until 3 a.m.? Who knows?!?
It’s disorienting. Freaky. I feel adrift. I look at that spot and find myself staring, not fully comprehending what’s going on. “Honey,” I call to my wife, “someone stole our clock and I don’t know what time soccer comes on.” Then I sit down on the sofa … FOR HOURS!!!
I’ve already missed three days of work.
If I were the cable company, I would run an ad campaign for prospective cord-cutters that says, “Did you know that 92 percent of people who drop cable lose all awareness of time and must be surgically removed from their couch?”
I also learned that I am not the great negotiator or deal-maker I thought I was. Turns out my wife is.
I did think I was hot stuff. I had done all my research. Had elaborate spreadsheets with self-written algorithms. Searched out prices and explored all the options. Called the cable company, told them where I stood and that I wanted to “cut some cable, but keep some Internet.” I haggled a bit, was quoted a price and felt really good about it. Then I walked away to give it some time and let them sweat. I pictured the CEO calling down to sales and asking, “We get that Thompson guy yet?”
I felt awesome!
Then I asked my wife if she could call the cable company to check on one final detail, and … THEY GAVE HER A BETTER DEAL!!! Out of the blue.
She wasn’t even asking for one. I was stunned. Gobsmacked. “You know it’s so funny,” she told me, “because I didn’t even know what I was talking about. She just punched a few buttons and found me a better offer.”
!!!!!!
Great job, honey. Good for you. Glad I spent all of these months researching and strategizing and reading that book called, “How to play hardball with your cable company … and other tricks learned from the mafia.” That you can just pick up the phone, have a nice conversation with a nice cable lady and Whamo! Save us a bunch of money. (Lesson to Brian: Studying didn’t improve your grades in college, and it’s not working in real life either.)
Truth is we’re a couple weeks into our cord-cutting expedition and I haven’t missed all those channels I never watched. We’re getting on with streaming and figuring out new remote controls. With all the money we’re saving, I just put a down payment on a private island in the Caribbean. And we could actually go there one day, but I don’t have any idea what time we have to leave for the airport.