Thursday, September 10, 2009

Remote Possibilities (Cigar Smoke 9-10-09)

You know, this may sound kind of unimportant. But then again, remember whom you are reading. (My grammar checker put that whom in, sorry.) Anyway, this is who speaking again. Yes, I’m on first, too.

Because I am a what? I am a man. Therefore, I am in charge of the remote control. It is my life and I would die for it. Do not try to take the remote out of my clutching fingers. Do not even think of trying to remove my remote. It will be a decision you and your next of kin will regret. It is my remote. Don’t touch it. Unless you just bought my TV from my craigslist ad. Then you can touch my remote, because it is actually your remote then. And I would never touch another man’s remote.

I know, most of you think of the remote problem as a guy thing. And I guess it is. Like not asking for directions or thinking about sex every four seconds. OK, every three seconds. But there is a hidden, huge responsibility of being in charge of the remote. If you are man enough to seize the remote, you must be man enough to use it for the benefit of your woman, your TV mate, your Vast Wasteland-watching partner. In other words, you have to choose some pretty good shows if you want to have the, excuse the expression, remotest chance of pleasing your Poopsie Pie.

And believe me, if your Poopsie Pie is anything like my Poopsie Pie, pleasing her is a challenge. It is tough. And I really work at it. And, of course, I have TiVo, too. And no, it’s not the old one-show recording TiVo. No, it is the new two-banger baby that let’s you record two shows at once or you can watch one show and record the other while you’re watching or you don’t have to watch the two shows you’re pretending to watch and it will still record stuff you don’t want to see. It is beautiful.

Every night after we eat dinner, we head for the family room to watch a little TV. Marge isn’t really a TV kind of person. Generally, she just likes to read her Kindle, and pretend she’s married to someone else who is also reading a Kindle. But sometimes she has very strong feelings on not being able to see anything good on TV. She’ll say something like, “Ah geez, I’m not watching that.

I just can’t watch that. Isn’t there anything else on? I just can’t watch it! That is awful. I cannot watch that! No, I can’t watch that!” And I’ll say, “Are you saying you can’t watch that?”

And then because I happen to have the remote in my hand and under my complete control, I hit the Now Playing button on the TiVo and I show Ms. Poopsie Pie a long list of previously recorded television favorites for her viewing enjoyment. And usually, because I am a wonderful TV mate, I suggest a preview of our television plans for the evening. I’ll say, “OK, first we’ll see a “Jeopardy!”, then we can either see a new “Monk” or an old “Law and Order.” She’ll jump in and say, “I don’t like ‘Monk’ anymore. It was OK at first, but I can’t watch it anymore. He makes me nervous. And how many times have I told you that I only like “Law and Order” with a colon after it, like “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” or “Law and Order: Criminal Intent.” Then I suggest that I could maybe put something like a remote control device in another colon if she doesn’t like the shows I pick, and she thinks that I am mean-spirited and gross and goes back to her Kindle and pouts.

Then I’ll start watching some show I like because she’s reading her Kindle and she’ll glance at it and say, “Is that all that’s on?!” Then I’ll gather my mean-spirited and gross self, and say, “Poopsie Pie, you wanna see a “Seinfeld?” She’ll say, “No.” “How about a replay of the Kings-Montreal Stanley Cup playoff from 1993?” “No!” “OK, how about a ‘Big Brother?’” And she closes her eyes, opens them, and says, “If you watch another one of those ‘Big Brother’ episodes, I will shoot your lame-ass stupid dead body and get the neighbors to help me stuff you into a suitcase and then I will mail you to myself and when you arrive I will stab you through the outside of the suitcase with a Japanese sword and then open the suitcase and pour kerosene on the pieces of your body and then light up a cigarette and drop the burning match into the kerosene and dance around the flames.”

“I guess you don’t care which houseguest is getting evicted huh?”

Hey, I really do try to find shows she will like. Poopsie Pie’s pleasure is my life. I want her to be happy. I want her to be fulfilled. I take my remote control obligations seriously. I just don’t TiVo for fun. No, I TiVo to be a serious remote control guy. I TiVo to save my marriage. I TiVo for my country. I TiVo to find shows with colons!

I think I may have found something. “Hey, Honey Poopsie, you wanna see this new reality show? It has a colon. ‘Octomom: The Formative Years’.”