Remote Chance of Figuring Out My Fancy TVOften when my teenage sons are watching TV, I sit down and join them. Not because we're bonding. Not because I love football and "Glee." Simply because I enjoy TV — and that's the only way I get to watch it. You see, I have no idea how to turn on my television. I'd be embarrassed to admit this (OK, I AM embarrassed to admit this), but I know I am not alone. Like the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous — or even the Hair Club for Men — I'm aware there are millions of people across the country in the same sad situation I am. There's even a name for us. Wives. Wives of husbands who bought the most bang-up, brand-new, bandwidth-busting beauties on the market — home entertainment systems that entertain those at home who can figure out which button to click when your TV is linked to your computer, your Xbox, your stereo, your projector, your Wii Fit (you don't even need to play; just sprint around the room hunting for the controls), your Netflix account, your Amazon.com account. And of course, all of THOSE are hooked up to your TiVo, which is connected to the Blu-ray, which is connected to the hipbone. "My husband has so many things hooked up to the family room TV I need repeated tutorials just to watch a show or to get a workout DVD to play," says my fellow sufferer Josie Maurer, who has given up. "The setup is so ridiculous I don't feel bad anymore when I have to wake up my husband at 6 a.m. just so he can turn the TV on." I'm glad she doesn't feel bad. If her husband brought home a space shuttle, would he expect her to start it up? Same thing! But at least there is some commander somewhere at NASA who knows how to start the space shuttle. Stephanie Ellis' home theater, that's another story. Three years ago, she and her husband bought a state-of-the-art entertainment system with all the bells and whistles (which only chime and tweet by remote, of course).
The bill came to the price of a small Pacific island. Well, a medium island. One year later, Ellis reports, "I was only able to turn on the TV — with two remotes — and we had not used any of the other equipment." So for a Christmas present, they hired a kid from the local tech store to teach them how to use everything ... almost. "The 'doodad' is still a coffee table, however." At least now there's a working system in their house. As for my pal Holly Xerri, the only way she gets to watch TV is if she somehow lucks out and presses the right buttons; it's like playing the lottery. Once in a while, she wins. She also wins if she's walking by and the TV happens to be on already and all she has to do is change the channel. Like all these gals, I would take my old TV back in a heartbeat — the kind with rabbit ears and a channel changer attached to the set itself. It even could be black-and-white, because right now my super-duper watch-anything-you-want-on-demand set is only black, all the time, unless there's a male in the room. And if there is, I think you can guess who's holding the remote controls. All 13 of them. Lenore Skenazy is the author of "Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry)" and "Who's the Blonde That Married What's-His-Name? The Ultimate Tip-of-the-Tongue Test of Everything You Know You Know — But Can't Remember Right Now." To find out more about Lenore Skenazy (lskenazy@yahoo.com) and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM
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