Out of Control Remote

Posted on August 2, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

Our family had one of the first televisions back in the 1950’s.  I believe it was an RCA but I know for certain that it was black and white, had one channel (CBC) and required rabbit ears in order to get a grainy picture.  It had one knob to turn it off and on, another for contrast and one to lighten or darken the screen.  Period.  There was no dispute over which channel to watch.  And you actually had to approach the T.V. to turn it off and on.  We thought we had died and gone to heaven.

We watched Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, and I Love Lucy.  Perry Mason was our hero and Hoss and Little Joe felt like family.  We watched Elvis not swivel his hips on the Ed Sullivan Show.  We were entertained by The Three Stooges (more on that topic later) and Leave It to Beaver.  And the big thrill of the week was watching two of the original six teams in the NHL do battle on Saturday nights.

As Barbra Streisand sang “Can it be that it was all so simple then?”

And then technology came roaring along.  The number of channels increased to two (welcome CTV) and, wonder of wonders, we were mesmerized when color T.V became a reality.  We quickly moved into a multi-channel universe, cable television and satellite T.V.  In recent years we have been inundated with other advances including high definition display, split screens and most recently, smart T.V.s.

And, along the way, some arsehole invented the remote control.  It’s bad enough that he designed one remote for each T.V. brand and model.  But no, he wasn’t satisfied, so then he created universal remotes and those that are needed for DVD players or special AV systems and do certain things but won’t do others.

After a busy week of toil, I sat back on the chesterfield to watch a taped broadcast of the British Open.  I paused it for a few moments while I spent some quality time with my wife, preparing and dining on a carefully and lovingly prepared supper of barbequed hotdogs and leftover pan fried potatoes.  I sure know how to impress a gal.  When I returned to catch the last three holes of the broadcast, I hit the “play” button and nothing happened.  After using a remote for the last thirty years or so, I thought I had it mastered.  After several attempts I was ready to heave the three remotes on the side table right through the 52” high def screen.

Having learned deep breathing at yoga classes, I summoned my inner calm and tried again.  Nothing.  Fearing carnage, I called upon the voice of reason.  She fiddled with all the remotes and she too came up empty handed.  I even resorted to a technique I use when my computer betrays me: unplug, wait 3 minutes and try again.

Desperate times call for desperate measures so I called a buddy of mine.  I dragged him away from his dinner table.  What a classy guy I am, begging for help on a Friday evening.  This guy knows everything about technology.  I took mild pleasure in the fact that he didn’t diagnose the problem in the first 60 seconds.  He whipped out a battery charge detector like a gun slinger at the OK Corral.  They appeared to be ok and after re-inserting them in their casing, lo and behold, everything came back to life.

My wife informed me later that evening that she would be attending several yard sales the following morning.  I asked her if she could keep her eye out for a 1955 black and white television.

One of the Three Stooges is still alive.

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