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The boss called with what most people would consider excellent news. “How do you feel about writing a weekly media column?” he asked, perhaps knowing that my harpoon works on just about any whale. This was not a difficult question to answer, provided I neglected to mention that I had no idea how to operate a television in the 21st century.

Smart TVs, dumb owner. The latest technology can make a man feel feeble, even inferior, and as a math whiz from any generation will tell you, Old + Stupid = Frustrated. My allergy to apps is an acute one, leading to worthlessness and wild mood swings, which makes dizziness and vomiting seem almost as exciting as the swingers next door.

Legend has it that when Elvis Presley saw something he didn’t like on TV, he’d reach for the nearest handgun and blow the thing to smithereens. Of course, Elvis could afford to hire someone with a bit of audio/video savvy. Fresh off a delightful Easter Sunday brunch with a bellyful of Eggs Benedict and a peculiar desire to straighten up my closet, I headed to the bedroom, where I’d passed up a cable hookup on a television limited to streaming purposes.

The plan was to watch the final round at Hilton Head on CBSSports.com while pairing up a hundred loose socks. Upon arriving at that destination, I was told I needed to buy a subscription to Paramount+, the network’s primary viewing hub, so I purchased the Essential plan, a chore in itself — go to the website on another device and enter the code on the screen, then identify the data source associated with your actual TV. Mission accomplished. Time to watch the action at Harbour Town.

But wait ... There is no golf tournament on Paramount+. There’s women’s soccer and a ton of that kick-and-punch boxing stuff climbing swiftly toward world domination, but no PGA Tour? Heading back to CBSsports.com in a simmering panic, there it was. The lighthouse. That blue South Carolina sky. The link I’d spent 30 minutes searching for was one click away from three hours of contentment.

Kerplunk. The NFL game you’ve been watching has ended. Visit the link below on your phone or computer to sign in with your TV provider.

Where’s Elvis when you really need him?

It wasn’t all that long ago when Tour events were televised just twice per week — a pair of Saturday/Sunday windows that occupied six hours of major-network airtime. Golf Channel bought the rights to early-round coverage in 2007. ESPN won the bidding for streaming options, a contract that went into effect this year, leaving us with at least four times as much viewing opportunity than was available 20 years ago.

A lot of it is reserved for junkies only, but this rapid growth is a great thing for fans of any shape and size. It has become patently obvious, however, that the streaming product is the proverbial work in progress, a vast and fruitful frontier in which the people who make decisions aren’t considering the consumer’s best interests when determining what program goes where and how much you have to pay for it.

It’s not the $4.99 monthly charge for Paramount Essential that is so bothersome, at least at face value. It’s that it took me almost another hour to realize that I had to invest in the Premium plan (10 bucks) to watch the tournament. Are the people who work for the CBS streaming department driving with their eyes closed? The one-week free trial means nothing to me. It’s simply a hook to reel you in, and if the programming proves unsatisfactory, the multi-step process to cancel the subscription is tougher than an obstacle course for the U.S. Marines.

A large percentage of golf fans are 50 or older. Many are oblivious to the vagaries of online viewing, having grown up in an era when there were three TV channels and maybe PBS, which also happens to feature a streaming entity that is both misleading and ambiguous. A lot of us seniors have a hard enough time figuring out which TV remote controls the volume. Golf’s age demographic is a handsome one to a long list of corporations, a fair number of them advertisers and business partners of the Tour.

Without a bunch of old folks around to tune in on a regular basis, the pro game wouldn’t be nearly as healthy. As handsy as Camp Ponte Vedra gets in demanding that CBS and NBC project a positive image of the players, it should take the same proactive measures in making its product accessible on alternative viewing devices. Right now, streaming is the wild west in need of a sheriff. Fiscally driven, which is hardly a sin in a capitalist culture, but that comes with the responsibility of making sure people get what they pay for.

It’s not easy, living in a world where a 9-year-old has a stronger technological grasp than someone raised on a black-and-white TV with a metal hanger serving as an antenna. Speaking of which, most of those socks have found a match, the shirts finally hung, the conversion from cold- to warm-weather clothing successfully completed. I watched the final hour of the telecast from Hilton Head on conventional cable, then ditched my commitment to Paramount+ about 6 and a half days before the free trial expired.

A little bit of order, a whole lot of principle. The online viewing industry could use an oversized portion of both.

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