Ahhh, the remote. The holy grail of a man’s idle time. The power to alter the viewing choices, volume, temperature or visibility. The very tool of masculine relaxed power.
There are remotes for everything: CD players, lights, even air conditioners and of course the television. And through the years the remote, like man himself, has evolved from a bulky, intrusive, awkward beast to a slim, sleek, multifunctional, perfectly hand fitted wonder wand.
I would use a remote to drive to work if I could. I have 3 in my room, one in the kitchen and living area and even in the bathroom! I love the remote control!
Look, us guys have only a few small glimpses of light on the land of control. Women choose our clothing, women choose the colors of paint in the house, the type of car or minivan we drive, the very style of drapes, carpet, linens or bath towels that’s used in our lives. Is it too much to fathom that we men have one last bastion of assertiveness over something in our lair?
I need the remote. I miss the remote when I’m away from it. I sometimes put it in my pocket when I leave a room to relieve the separation anxiety I might have and to avoid ceding the control to someone else.
I have very little control in my world thus I keep the remote.