Your sleek lines, your shiny black plastic, the way you fit so comfortably in my hand.
When I come home at the end of the day, you’re waiting for me, possibly hidden down behind the couch cushion, but waiting for me just the same.
When I need to turn up the volume, because the baby’s crying, or my wife is trying to talk to me: you’ve been there.
You’ve protected me from inane commercials, brain damaging games shows, and the evil of figure skating.
And let’s not forget Temptation Island. I really owe you for that one.
You empower me to surf the channels, to multiplex my viewing pleasure. You allow me to experience television to the fullest.
As we set out on each new adventure, you almost seem to know where I want to go, even before I do. And yet, you make me press the buttons anyway, which is a little annoying, but hey, I’m not perfect either.
Where did you come from little one?
Was it Sears? Yes, I think it was. I remember, there was a sale that day.
You have served without complaint, enduring the humiliation of sticky fingers and carelessly spilled beer.
You’ve lived in the shadow of the television, receiving little credit having done all the work, yet you are not bitter.
Oh, we’ve had some good times.
The games we played: like “off the ceiling”, and “behind the back”.
Remember the Superbowls we watched together? You didn’t have to be there. The commercials are usually pretty good. But it just felt right, having you by my side, or maybe on the coffee table. But always within reach, and pointing in the right direction.
Your faith has never wavered, though I tested it. Oh yes, I tested it.
My brief fascination with the 5-in-1 remote. I tell you now, she–I mean it–didn’t mean a thing to me.
And when I joked that I would get some exercise, by getting up and pressing the buttons on the TV, you pretended to laugh.
But I knew it was an act.
So many times I failed you, demanding your performance when your batteries were low, crushing your buttons with anger, as if pressing harder would increase your infrared signal.
All the times I left you home alone while we went out to dinner, or on vacation.
I never meant to hurt you.
(cue background music, low: “Did you ever know that you’re my hero,”)
You ask so little, you give so much.
(rising: “and everything I would like to be?”)
You make me want to be a better man. A lazy, culturally-challenged, better man.
(“I can fly higher than an eagle,”)
My remote control. My faithful servant. My friend. I salute you.
(“for you are the wind beneath my wings.”)
Guest Columnist