Tales of Transformation: Remote (Out of) Control

Yesterday my cable guy arrived in great time. My son was still down for the count during his afternoon three-hour nap, and I was just finishing up a freelance assignment. In lighting speed the TV in the kitchen was working again, and soon I was able to catch up on Gordon Ramsey and his Kitchen Nightmares.

Photo illustration by Sheila Corcoran-Abraham.Like ambient noise (or pollution), the chatter of the TV is always on while I am running around getting as many things done in those three hours. During that time, I feel like a game show contestant where in one minute they’ve got to grab a grand as the dollar bills are fluttering in the air before the sound of a baby crying -- I mean buzzer -- goes off. If I am able to absorb a drip of news or pick up the affairs of anything current during that naptime, even better.

The cable guy asked if I had any questions as he was heading out the door. In high school I would have never raised my hand to that sort of question. It seemed more rhetorical, and I prayed no one would take up the teacher's offer. But this time, I really did need to take things into my own hands and understand something. 

My big question? “Why are remote controls so difficult to use, or is it just me?” Seriously, I can’t tell if old age is setting in (yes), or are these remotes too remote for my visual aesthetic and intellect to take in? Why is it, when I turn off the TV at the end of the day, as I turn to walk away, it comes back on again? Why does the sound come on mysteriously at 2 in the morning? Most importantly, why can’t I find anything on TV?

In his polite Midwestern way, the cable guy buzzed around the basics and showed me where I could find the “Help Videos” for some of the questions I might have. It was as if to say, “Lady, it is you, and you’re on your own.” 

My husband once said I was stuck in the 1980s when it comes to the remote control. Ouch! Ok, yes, I admit in a panic I’ve phoned him at work and pulled him out of a meeting to help me navigate the remote. But my toddler was having a meltdown due to the fact that DJ Lance and his crew were not readily available. I found that to be an emergency and call-worthy.

Now, to alleviate some chaos, I leave the television on all day during waking hours. There are no remote control malfunctions, and one less daily tantrum. Mine. My son now lives in world where it’s common to have two or three TVs on in the house at all times. Like walking into a sports bar or Times Square, it’s just to be expected. He will think it odd if there is a world without a wide-screen TV already on as he enters a room.

My husband has big plans on fully pimping this place out. Being able to remotely turn anything on in the house with our iPhones or being able to stream Flickr, Vimeo, iTune playlists, movies, and shows with Apple TV as well as storing it all in the "cloud" is just the beginning.

Media is seamlessly and wirelessly being synced, downloaded and recorded. I’ve got TV guide apps, AT&T U-verse online, and I “like” HBO, PBS, Sundance, Bravo, Starz, Logo, The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Hulu and TV Guide on Facebook. I read tweets from Bob Saget (funny!) and texts from Jamie Oliver, even though I still struggle to get a meal on the table. I listen to podcasts of The Age of Persuasion and get email newsletters from Pantone to keep up with advertising and design trends as well as DailyCandy for fluff. I try to stay connected.

However, the more I am connected, the more I feel disconnected. It all gets bottlenecked when it comes down to that small black piece of plastic and a few buttons. Trying to manage that remote is like "Keeping Up with the Kardashians." I just can’t seem to do it.

My Amazon Prime Wish List keeps growing, and on top of that list is a Logitech Harmony 1100 Touch Screen remote. With it, my life will be better. I just know it. My son turns 2 in a few weeks and soon he will be able to school me on getting it programed. I look forward to that day where we can have such bonding moments.

Stuck in the '80s? Please! My husband is way off. He is off by a full decade. I think my TV watching prime was the '70s. The big clunky television set sat on top of a TV-stand like a pedestal. Even when the channel changer knob was completely broken off due to too much good use, I would sit in the glow of that set for hours with a pair of black pliers in my hand, in the event a channel ever needed to be changed.

Back then, I knew every advertising jingle and never missed a show.

A chronic East Coast city dweller/designer, Sheila Corcoran-Abraham now resides in a quiet rural setting very west of Chicago with her husband, toddler and their tolerant dog. In her regular column "Tales of Transformation," she writes about creating domestic joy in spite of herself.