Rhyme and No Reason!

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Man’s Best Friend, The Remote Control! — April 5, 2018

Man’s Best Friend, The Remote Control!

What is it with men and the TV remote control?  I am sure they think it is an extension of themselves, (another appendage or something) because trying to separate the two is nigh on bloody impossible!

When I was growing up, we only had four channels on the TV.  To turn it over, you had to get up off the settee, go over to the television and push the knob or button to turn it over.  Seeing as there was such little choice in TV programmes,  and no one could be bothered to keep getting up to turn over, it typically stayed mostly on one favourite channel.  My step-dad was the one who always chose that channel. As Mum was not that bothered. She liked to watch similar things to him, anyway.  We all watched what he wanted, and that was the end of it!

He couldn’t believe his luck as television became more sophisticated, and there was a remote control to play with (or ‘clicker’ as he liked to call it).  When cable TV came along, and there were extra channels to watch, it was a dream come true for a ‘Telly Addict’ like my step-dad.  He loved nearly all sports, had a fondness for a Spaghetti Western, became hooked on one or two soaps, and finally vociferously joined in with the quiz shows.  Oh God, he would berate the hapless contestants (Family Fortunes being his favourite) for their stupidity. He would SCREAM the answers out to the fools that couldn’t answer, repeating them louder and louder as if they could hear him, which used to drive me mad!  However, I always laughed when he said, “Goodnight” to the newscaster before he went to bed (my Nan used to do that as well)!!

The thing that was most annoying though was if, by chance one of us kids managed to get hold of the clicker and put Top Of The Pops or something on before he settled down for the evening.  We would be halfway through watching it,  only for him to come in, pick up the clicker and turn it over!  He did not care if we were in the middle of something, he would just flick it over.   We actually tried to hide the sodding clicker on occasion, but he would go ballistic turning everything upside down until someone found it.

I have discovered that my husband is also a remote control hogger!  (I think it has something to do with middle age, but I wouldn’t know, as I am not there yet).  I’ll be watching something, and when the adverts come on, he starts flicking about through the channels. I ask him to turn it back but by the time he does, my programme has already begun, and I have missed the first 2 minutes of it.  He also loves to mess about with the menus, so you end up watching a 2×2 inch square for 20 minutes or until he has figured out how to do whatever it is he wants to do!

I can see the similarities between my husband now, and how my step-dad was back then. The armchair (no one else is allowed to sit in it as it is in the best spot for seeing the TV), a handy table nearby on which to rest the obligatory cup of tea, and slippers waiting at the bottom of the chair.  The only difference is my stepdad’s ashtray on the table, and my husband ’s pouffe to put his feet up.  Other than that two peas in a pod, just 20 years apart!

Who has the remote in your house?

Writespiration #82: Nostalgia That Hurts — March 4, 2016

Writespiration #82: Nostalgia That Hurts

nostalgia

This week for Sacha’s Writespiration prompt we are asked to write about nostalgia that hurt.  For obvious reasons this poem is a little more serious than my usual ones!

I thought my life was over

The day I walked away

Ten years down the drain

Nothing left to say

I gave you everything I had

My heart, my love, my soul

But, you had never loved me

Just wanted to be in control

The day that we got married

You said that I was fat

Just two guests at our wedding

It was over in 10 minutes flat!

Then you became possessive

And wracked with jealousy

Stupidly I was pleased

Thought it meant you cared for me

I always wanted children

 You said you wanted none

Yet an affair I found out later

Had produced your eldest son

I really tried to make it work

But I became so trodden down

The final straw was knowing

That your wife had come to town.

 I left your life with nothing

But a few clothes that I packed

And the freedom to be me again

And to never, ever look back!

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