2010-03-15 / Columns

LEDGER COLUMNIST

Why is this remote control so cold?
KLONIE JORDAN — Executive Editor (editor@gaffneyledger.com)

If y’all get a chance, can y’all come over to the house some time and help me find my remote control?

My wife, bless her heart, just can’t seem to keep in mind the two basic rules of remote control ownership, which are:

A.) Never take the remote control out of the room in which the device it is used to control is located;

and

B.) Leave the remote control in plain view where the next individual who might want to use it — i.e., me — can find it.

For some reason, women do not understand how important this device is to your average male.

See, it’s not just an electronic item that changes channels, controls the volume and does other wonderful magic things to televisions. It also helps to control our stress and provides us with the illusion that, as married individuals, we are still in charge of something in the house, which, as we all know but won’t admit, is simply not the case because when we said “I do” what we were really saying is “we surrender control of everything we own to this woman and will no longer be allowed to have independent thoughts or make any decisions without first consulting with her to gain her input, after which we will politely and sheepishly say, ‘yes ma’am,’ and then get on with our pathetic lives.”

So now you can see why it is very therapeutic that we husbands be allowed to randomly channel surf. The remote control gives us a sense of power even though we know we don’t actually have any. This is why you can go into any home in the United States after 6 p.m. and you will find a husband firmly clutching a TV remote control as if it were a life-sustaining device.

You can understand then why we become somewhat distraught whenever the remote control becomes misplaced. And we all know WHO would misplace a remote control. Certainly no male we know would ever do such a thing.

Lately, I have been searching for my remote control, at least the one to the TV in the den, like Columbus searching for the New World. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure he could have discovered the New World, the Third World, Disney World and a couple of new planets in less time than it has taken me to find the remote control.

My wife simply has no respect for this device. She has, as I have previously mentioned, on numerous occasions placed our remote controls in some outlandish places, including the refrigerator (twice), on top of the doghouse (which is outside, for Pete’s sake) and in rooms in our house where there are, and never will be, any televisions.

ME: “Honey, have you seen the remote control?”

SHE: “I had it a few minutes ago. Let me see, where did I put it?”

She goes wandering through the house, a la Lewis and Clark.

ME: “Honey, have you found it yet? The game is coming on.”

SHE: “Yeah, here it is.” ME: “Where was it?” SHE: “It was in the hall closet.” ME: “Honey?”

SHE: “Yes?”

ME: “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but let me ask you something.”

SHE: “Yes?” ME: “Is there a television in the hall closet?”

SHE: “Are you being a smart-alec?”

ME: “Try to focus. Let me repeat the question - is there a television in the hall closet?”

SHE: “No.”

ME: “Then why was the remote control...”

She tosses the remote control into my lap and scurries off in a huff to the bedroom to watch “Grey’s Anatomy” and I know that it’s just a matter of time before the remote control in there will also be missing.

I make a mental note to check the hall closet — and the refrigerator.

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