Comedians and sitcoms get a lot of mileage out of the image of men and their attachment to the television remote control. Unfortunately, it�s not just a Y chromosome affliction. I�m here to plead guilty to excessive flicking, both with my TV viewing and when listening to my car radio.

I once teased my three-year-old niece, pretending that the remote control was a boat. "That�s not a boat, Aunt Kay. That�s a flicker," said the pragmatic preschooler.

The flicker. The flipper. The remote control. Whatever you call it, much has been written about this fascinating labor-saving device. Most of us can�t imagine using the old-fashioned dial to change the myriad of channels now available on cable, but if the remote control hadn�t been invented, we wouldn�t have so many channels to choose from. It�s a chicken-and-egg thing.

I must have one of the itchiest flicker fingers in Queensbury. Although it�s harder to do now with 53 channels, it wasn�t so long ago that I could take a quick tour around all the available channels within a three-minute commercial break.

Not all remote controls are created equally well. Some are too big for my hand, or too square for comfortable flicking. The best remote controls are strong enough to bounce the signal off walls, which is very useful when the way to the infrared sensor is blocked by kids who, as we all know, make better doors than windows.

My daughter seldom sits in a chair or couch to watch TV and has lost remote control using privileges more than once when she�s left the control on the floor and it nearly got crushed. This punishment doesn�t seem to phase her anymore since she�s usually close enough to use the buttons on the TV and VCR.

We�ve had the same TV for seven years and I have no idea which buttons do what.

While many people believe that the flicker has reduced us to a nation of couch potatoes who only get up from the tube for more chips, that�s like blaming chips for your weight gain. TV has a hypnotic effect. One minute of viewing slides easily to the next, just as a bag of chips easily empties as one chip at a time disappears into your mouth.

Granted, I don�t qualify as a heavy TV viewer, or even a regular one, when I do sit down by myself, "just to see what�s on," it�s hard to resist flipping around, remote firmly in hand, and watching into the wee hours.

Mostly I blame it on idiotic commercials.

If I�m watching a VH-1 "Behind the Music" segment on Rod Stewart, I don�t want to watch silly ads for cellular companies that consider talking on a phone "self expression." Or car commercials using �70s rock anthems to sell me on the luxury of $30,000 vehicles I can�t afford. Or brokerage firms promising trust and commitment when the monthly commissions on my account wouldn�t buy them lunch.

So I flip. And flip. And flip.

Suddenly, it�s one a.m. and I haven�t watched any one show in its entirety because I was off gallivanting during the commercials.

A similar thing happens when I�m driving in the car. One of my favorite parts about the design of my 1995 Taurus wagon is also the most addictive: the easy-to-reach buttons for seek and memory. I dislike all the yakking that goes on the radio, especially in the mornings. And I have a wide range of musical tastes. So, my right hand is often resting�lightly--on the drive shift lever while my index finger punches the seek button looking for just the right tune.

I catch a lot of favorite songs this way.

Well, parts of favorite songs, anyway.

Nothing is as disappointing as going all around the dial and returning to where I started, only to find that the song I first heard is now over.

Every so often I try to reform myself and keep my flicking to a minimum. I check the TV listings to decide ahead of time what I want to watch. I use the remote control and put it aside on the table instead of keeping it in my hand. I stay on one radio station for a whole car ride.

Inevitably I feel bored. And resentful. And frustrated. Why give me so many things to choose from if I�m not able to take advantage of them all?

It�s the story of my life: so many choices, so little time.