when I was the remote control

I am a child of the 70s. well, honestly the late 70s thru the 80s since I was born in 73. but with that came great burdensome responsibility; i.e., reluctantly agreeing to becoming my pop’s personal remote control (okay, let’s be honest. there was no agreeing. there was only doing. that’s how it was back then. dads didn’t ask. they told you to do something and you fucking did it. end of discussion.) for back then, you’d be hard pressed to find a tv with one.

I’d plant myself about five feet from the tv. not too close now, for I’d certainly go “blind”, as per my parents who would yell at me anytime I tried to inch up ever closer to the tele so I didn’t have to be too far away from reaching for the knob in order to change the channel, once more.

and turn the knob, I did. pretty sure by the time we got rid of that old janky ridiculously massive box that had to be smacked from time and again for a clear picture, there was a little indent from my fingers on the knob due to my continuous turning of it countless times for roughly five to six hours every day/eve over the course of eight to ten years.

thank the gods there were only like nine channels back then.

still…

I hated it.

the first hour was never too bad.

just warming up. getting into the shows. not too many advertisements. yet. and I would always get super excited anytime we’d watch a PBS show because I knew it’d be a full uninterrupted hour sans ads. honestly, it may well be the reason I still thoroughly enjoy watching any Nature programs to this day.

however, by the third hour with no Nature show in sight and only short 30 min sitcoms with about five commercial breaks per, my dad would have me change the channel during each one of these.

and THAT may very well be the reason, to this day, I can’t sit thru a fucking commercial. and if forced to, I put it on mute and divert my attention completely.

but then, eventually, the big day came…

that son of a bitch actually did it.

my pop got a tv with a remote control.

and as excited as my dad seemed to be, nobody was more excited than me. it might as well had been fucking Christmas. I wouldn’t have cared less if Santa had given me any other gift that year.

this was the gift of all gifts.

the gift that kept giving.

the gift of my first taste of freedom.

and freedom never tasted so sweet.

no longer forced to sit and watch shows I couldn’t care less about, I was able to go to my room if I wanted.

wow!

it’s many years later now and feels like a different world entirely with the ever rapid advancement of technology.

and here I am — a full blown middle aged adult. reminiscing about my childhood all due to a funny meme I saw this morning of which I was able to completely relate.

nowadays, I laugh about that period in my life, no longer angry or annoyed with having to do something so ridiculous as a child.

today, I have my own big ass flat screen mounted tele — with its very own remote control.

but one thing has never changed…

often, I still find myself watching tv from the comfort of the floor as opposed to the couch.

not realizing, until just this moment… my childhood may very well be the reason.

but this time, I can sit as close as I want with remote in hand.

Master of the Universe.