Death of a Remote

There are few things a man becomes more attached to than his remote control. At first, these little devices were a luxury best afforded by those with the money and girth of King Henry VIII. After all, we prided ourselves on being able to operate any kind of electrical device. Soon though, more and more of us found that we were no longer required to watch a television show through to the end. Instead, we could change channels during a commercial and see what else was on. Television manufacturers began to offer other features on the remote control beyond the basic functions of channel and volume. Soon, I found myself changing the sound field on a program. Of course with all of this new technology, there also came some social responsibility that most men learned the hard way. For example, it is NOT recommended to switch channels whenever something your wife wants to watch comes on. It is also not suggested to change the sound field of the stereo receiver so that whenever your wife watches “Touched by an Angel” sounds like it was cast with a team of psycho robots.

As televisions have evolved, the remote control has changed as well. The last television I purchased, the only button on the television itself is the power switch. All other functions and features must be accomplished on the remote control. As such, the location of the remote is critical. I cannot tell you how often I have had to hunt for my remote control. What usually happens is the kids will turn on the television and then leave the room. I will wander through the room to find some insidious show such as Barney coming on. I then have to frantically search for the remote to change channels before that stupid theme song gets stuck in my head causing serious brain damage. There have been countless groundings in our house as a result of misplacing the remote. Based upon this knowledge, the events of tonight can best be summed up in one word, tragic. I sat down for a few minutes and thought I would watch a movie. I reached for the end table and at the same time flipped up the recliner. The remote was missing, AGAIN, and the chair made a gruesome sound. I jumped out of the chair looking down the side of the cushion, I saw the missing remote now in several pieces. It seems the kids dropped the remote control down the chair and decided there was no need to retrieve it. Now, I find myself stuck on the Disney Channel with no way to change channels. There is just so much Zoog Disney one adult can stand. Of course on the positive side, I had forgotten what a babe Annette was in her Mickey Mouse Club sweater.

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