This remote control life
As I turned on the oscillating tower fan in my bedroom last night (Digression: that part of the rant where something that deserves it's own rant is inserted by your inconsiderate host. The real pain of a townhouse is that third floor where all the bedrooms live. In the hot spring and summer that is. It's a tradeoff in the winter that I'm willing to accept, ceteris paribus. A ceiling fan is the solution but not when one is renting, wot wot?) with the clever little remote control that hangs on a little clip on the side of the fan when it's idle.
Nothing special in that. But then I picked up the TV remote to catch the end of "CSI Die-ami" and it really struck me: In my bedroom, I have five (five!) remote controls. They are these: fan, TV, DVD player, VCR and radio/CD player. This is a symptom of something (laziness? Ed.) that I prefer not to look too deeply into for that way lies madness. Actually, that way lies lying down. I think the proliferation of units of convenience is due to the fact that the whole point of the room is that I am supine or prone or prostrate or limbs akimbo on the mattress. I've fallen into bed and I can't get up. Well, won't get up.
So I will be needing remotes for all the devices that make my life full and save me from having to have actual human contact. And yet ... five still seems excessive.
How many remote controls do you have in one room? In the whole house? Leave me a comment. (You've got to stop this blatant fishing for response. Ed.)