The Remote Mystery

It was just before Halloween when ghosts and goblins come calling. A dark stormy evening when the dark becomes black so much faster, like a shade pulled in the midnight hours in the silent bedroom.

Not a sound could be heard, except the constancy of the television emoting its eerie images and sounds. After completing all the chores of the day, I settled down to concentrate on the story line. Well, almost concentrate, mostly perusing the HTML for Dummies.

My DH (dear husband) comes into the room wanting to tell me about his new career a la Dilbert (10/29/06) – a motivational speaker who mumbles. Mumbles I is his name. Mumbles II is his son’s name. They could ask for big bucks. While he mumbles on, motivationally speaking, I search for the remote to mute the television. This shows my respect for my DH.

The remote to mute was no where to be found. In the past I have searched and found the remote, otherwise known as the ‘clicker’, in various remote places. It travels to the kitchen accompanying me for a snack – a healthy snack, of course.

It is under a pile of papers beside the chair. It lays on my chest while in a reclining position. It sits beside my computer, ready to change channels or mute. A steady companion.

But the remote clicker has traveled afar afield, maybe it needs a vacation or ran away from home. For it is sure that its hiding places have not yielded its location.

While searching, I ponder the advisability of placing a light that comes on in the dim recesses of our family room to more easily locate the remote clicker. Then my mind flip-flops in time when changing the channels and the level of sound brought exercise for this aging body. Further back in time I recall when watching the radio brought mind-pictures of action.

Recently a man, my junior by 10 years or so, recalled the squeaking door on the radio as the low voice intones, “The Shadow Knows.” My young spine tingled as my ears took in the sound. Immediately my mind constructed a paint-peeling door slowly opening. It was decorated by the work of dozens of silky huge spiders spinning webs without number. The light created a shadow of the most ominous sort. The more I watched the radio, the more my mind vibrated with pictures that frightened me.

There was no clicker, no remote in those days. The picture was controlled by my imagination. Perhaps the Remote left to give me memories I would not have otherwise.

The question is, will the Remote return to one of its various places? Will my DH have to re-battery his watch that has a built in remote that he used to interrupt my chosen program?
Life is filled with ponderous questions that only tend to confuse and bewilder this writer.

Wherefore, where art thou, oh wondrous Remote?

Addendum
What is this? As I prepared to teach piano lessons, I pulled on my green corduroy shirt-jacket. Ahh, a bit chilly. As I walked into the living room to begin the lesson, I thought the shirt seemed to shift to the right side. No, it couldn’t be! I stopped in my tracks, well I would have if I made tracks.

There it was, the Mysterious Remote… tucked into the shirt I wore last night and SEARCHED saying, “I wish I had deposited it in my shirt pocket! “

There must be something to be said for multi-tasking – old age – or any other excuse anyone could pinpoint. Since this is a non-event, should I delete this blog? For sooth, I thinketh not-eth. After all, no one is perfect, and least-eth of all — me! Trying to survive….
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