Who’s in control?
I LIVE alone. Aside from the fact that the fridge is full of my favourite food that nobody else eats when I’m sleeping and that if I leave a towel on the floor the only person I irritate is myself, perhaps the biggest bonus to living on my own is that only I have access to my remote control.
I have carte blanche to pick and choose channels that I want to watch. I don’t have to bow to anyone else’s wishes, I don’t have to watch golf if I don’t want to, and I can flick and skip through shows at random during ad breaks without an annoyed “Oy!” barked at me.
It’s my house. I’ll watch what I want when I want.
I have to admit one could get very used to this kind of freedom. Selfish habits die hard and Ican only imagine what kind of authoritarian, remote control dictator I will one day be when I have to live with other people who watch the box.
At least I don’t have DStv, meaning my channel-hopping ways are naturally curtailed and given limits.
If I have enough trouble finding one channel and sticking with it when there are only the SABCs, e.tv and M-Net to choose from, I kind of sympathise with the restless channel surfing of the DStv subscriber. Especially if two in the house are divided along distinctly traditional gender lines where a perpetual tug-of-war between SuperSport and E! Entertainment can only be the result.
For now, I’ll enjoy being the sole holder of the power of the remote. Who’s in control? I am. Long may my reign last.