Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I'm just old enough to remember being the television remote control. As a child it wasn't unusual to be told to go change the channel for my mom or dad, or turn down the volume.
Now days, we have so many remotes we shouldn't ever have to stand up -- until the remote breaks that is. Never having had to be the remote before, Big Sister was somewhat unfamiliar today when we told her to go change the channel.
She brought us the remote.
"No, no, you have to walk over to the Dish receiver and push the buttons," Stephanie told her.
Not quite understanding, Big Sister just started pushing buttons. It took her a while to get used to it. The real problem is that with her controlling the buttons, we tend to end up watching cartoons or Hanna Montana -- all the time.
It's also disconcerting not knowing what is on and what is coming on next. We're used to hitting the guide button and flipping through the stations until we come upon a program we can all sort of agree to watch. Instead I'm writing this blog while watching one of the worst shows ever made "Crowned the Mother of all Pageants." Big Sister wanted to see who gets "de-sashed" and Stephanie is all about train wreck programming.
So we watch vacant girls and their mothers fight it out while they have vapid conversations about how they're dressed and why they want to win.
Maybe I'll just go to bed and dream about the replacement remote I plan to buy tomorrow.