Woe unto the rabbit-eared in 2009

My only television is a 1989 Gold Star, a college graduation present.

I do not hide it in the back bedroom. It is defiantly displayed in my living room, so friends can roll their eyes and would-be burglars can squint at it through the window and move on to the next house.

While it doubles as a security system, the set has its shortcomings. Needless to say, I don't spend $500 a year to watch the Oxygen channel on a television that cost a fraction of that when it was on sale at Kmart 19 years ago.

In other words, mine is one of the nearly 300,000 households in Virginia where rabbit ears will droop and die on Feb. 17, 2009, the day all broadcast stations nationwide switch to digital signals.

Like most of my analog brothers and sisters, I have ignored this deadline. My mother recently sent me a newspaper column penned by Sen. Jim Webb urging his Luddite constituents to stop procrastinating and get a converter box. My mother, incidentally, has satellite service, but as the purchaser of said Gold Star, she's just making sure I get the full use of her gift.

Feeling parental and senatorial pressure to act, I signed up online at work (no, I don't own a computer, either) and received my plastic government coupon in the mail. Because Congress passed a law mandating the transition to digital technology, the feds will pay $40 toward the purchase of a little black box that allows cheapskates like me to keep their old TVs.

There's something vaguely reminiscent of Soviet economics about the whole scheme. I suppressed the urge to wail "Perestroika!" when I discovered the electronics store had only one brand of converter box, with a sticker price of $59.99. I shelled out the $20 and took the gadget home.

It didn't work. I left multiple messages for the manufacturer, whose automated customer service line is narrated by a 12-year-old girl. Finally, like all spurned consumers, I sought sympathy on the Internet, where I discovered www.antiqueradios.com. Ostensibly for radio collectors, the site has been infiltrated by "vintage analog TV set" owners who haven't the wherewithal to get their own site.

I stumbled upon a lively online discussion involving a Texas fellow trying to rig up the TV at his hunting camp and several folks having trouble with the antennas on their trailers. Clearly, I have found my tribe. I'm certain to be bounced from the group if they ever discover that I live in a semi-detached row house at the center of a city.

In the meantime, my new pals have solved my problem. Turns out that little UHF loop sitting in a basket under the TV is the secret decoder ring to the digital revolution. It also explains why I haven't been able to get PBS for several months. OK, years.

Now I've crossed the digital Rubicon and doubled my channel selection from two to four choices. Believe me, if I can manage this, anybody can. The amount of time I've invested in this adventure makes me wonder whether I would have been better off just getting a new TV. But then I look at my little Gold Star and think about how much we've been through together. I think I'll keep it. I'm sure the picture tube is good for at least another couple of years.

Christina Nuckols is an editorial writer for The Virginian-Pilot. Reach her at (804) 697-1562 or christina. nuckols@pilotonline.com.