Sorry, the ice machine is out of order

Ah, we have come to the point in our national journey where politics are now more interesting than sports, and sports have never been more interesting. 

I've been on the road. It's tiring to drive all day and then find a place to sleep within financial reason, seeing a hotel room as being only a place to sleep, to hold unconsciousness, as it were, safely behind a locked door that is quite possibly the same door also installed in the hotel that charges $400 a night and not the $93 I'm paying for this room.

I desperately want to check in on the tv news, to surf between politics and sports, more interested in politics perhaps in this new time of being administered continuous civic lessons by the bungling inefficiency of this new administration, but I can't figure out how to work the tv. The tv's far too sophisticated for me, computerized etc. etc., and I give up. 

I walk to the ice machine to fetch some ice for the Perrier and vodka I've made. The thing doesn't work, though I can hear the ice stirring deep inside. 

 View from Rm. 112, Rodeway Inn, Washington Blvd., Culver City, Ca. March 22, 2016. 

View from Rm. 112, Rodeway Inn, Washington Blvd., Culver City, Ca. March 22, 2016.