Tuesday, April 21, 2009

She Has Remote Control

I generally don’t watch television. I have come to the conclusion that in order to see something on television, I must be captive to the time of broadcast, else I miss significant parts when I feel like taking a bathroom break. I know there are devices out there that could help in case I really felt that it was necessary and constructive.

Don’t get me going on TIVO. Aside from the original expense, it is still another device stacked on top of the TV, time spent on programming, controversial issues of copyright violation. It is just another gadget. If you use this device, you are just as much slave to television as if you were sitting in front of the current broadcast. Justify it all you want, it will not change the fact that you are stuck on some mindless drivel presented as entertainment.

I am not a Luddite. I have acquired my share of wonderful devices, however short-lived they were due to technological advances. Although I have never bought an eight-track player, I did many other things like that were just as futile. I am not into blue ray yet.

Once in a while while traveling I was subjected to the many channels offered through the hotel’s service. I found myself clicking through a lot of stuff until I came around a number of times to see the same offerings. That is when I turned it off, put on some music, and got one of the several books that I may have been reading at the time.

Although I like movies, they can never do justice to a story presented in a book. Imagination is a wonderful thing that is much ignored when one is overwhelmed by special effects to dramatize some non-essential aspect of a story. That is one of the reasons why I could never get involved with pornography: continuous (yawn) special effects.

Occasionally mindless drivel is exactly what one needs to get away from the tension pressed on us by everyday events. I could use TV. Then again, I can pop an old movie into the DVD player, and have a great time without the pressure of timing, programming, or worries over FBI warnings of fines and prison time. So, over the years, I grew away from television.

In many blogs having to do with FLR it is stated that “she has the remote” meaning, the remote controller to the TV. Whoa! I am really impressed. That is truly a female in charge! Imagine having control of the remote without having to worry about your resident jock wanting to watch wrestling or whatever.

Ok, I am being sarcastic. For one thing, I try to stay away from remote controllers. I generally find it easier to just push the damn button on the actual device then try to figure out which remote control does what to whom. Alas, some devices of late no longer have physical buttons to push or turn, so one is stuck with the damn remote controller. Of course, if a cat is sitting between one and the device, or if the battery has gone past its life, etc., one is still obliged to do the brutish physical thing as opposed to the expected esoteric approach.

One of the problems with this evolution of remote-controlled devices is that there is a proliferation of them in one’s abode. Many are gathering dust because nobody remembers what they are supposed to control. If the house is large, the issue is not that of spatial accommodation, rather, it has to do with “where the hell is the damn remote control this [whatever]?” and “Damn, it’s the wrong one.” As I said, I usually get around that by not relying on them. Then again, some things cannot be done without the controller, so I am screwed.

This was a roundabout way to get to my point. In my life, the woman has the remote controller to just about anything. For example, the signaling device. Even this morning we were doing some maintenance on some equipment in our home. She needed my brute force to do some things occasionally while I was doing other things in a distant part of the house. She was not expected to telephone me or to yell to summon me. It was obvious that the signaling device had to be installed on my appropriate parts. Now there is a useful instrument.

She said, “When you are zapped once, it means I want you here.”

“Where is here my dear?”

“Wherever I am, my love.”

“Oh.”

“When you get zapped repeatedly, it means that I am messing with you.”

“Oh.”

But that is not what I was really talking about here. MW has a remote control that is not electronic in nature. As we sip coffee I am looking at her round knees and very feminine charms above. I am sitting on the floor close enough to pick up her scent if she were to spread her knees. At this distance remote control is not an issue. She can do the manual thing, since I am reachable through tactile input or the scent thing. But let us assume that I am doing some chores across the room from her. She spreads her knees, and I see the movement. I zero in on the center of my existence. She need not say a word to get me to do things. She has the most powerful remote control in life. And it requires no batteries.

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