POOCH SAYS

      Who remembers the first television set the family got that had a remote control? We thought we were at the cutting edge of technology, even though the remote (?) was tethered to the t.v. set with a thin wire! We'd walk to the t.v., pick up that remote, walk back across the room, sit down, and we were in business! Then we'd reverse the process when we were finished watching so that Aunt Bertha wouldn't tangle the wire in the wheels of her walker. I recall that remote having 4 buttons - On, Off, Channel Up, Channel Down.

      In this day and age, I do believe that aspiring 747 pilots must first prove that they fully understand a multitude of thirty-page instruction booklets and are thoroughly conversant with the operation of various remote controls before they are turned loose in the cockpit of a jet liner.

      Cases in point: My HDTV remote has 49 - count 'em - little buttons, PLUS a 'menu' enter button surrounded by 4 directional buttons. I'd rather try my luck at getting out of a medieval maze than enter that menu place ever again!

      My separate DVD/VCR player remote is much simpler. It is 6 buttons shorter than the TV remote. Big deal. But the dreaded 'menu' enter button with left, right, up, and down directions must be necessary for something. Oh, yes, to select from the menu! Just give me the daily special and let's get on with the show.

      It took me twenty minutes recently to remove the English subtitles, erase the Spanish language, and restore English as my language of choice. I think I know where the 'pre-owned' owner of THAT DVD movie lived!

      I love my Bose speakers remote! It has only 32 buttons plus 5 more to 'balance and control volume.' I want to make sure my woofer and tweeter (whatever they may be) are working properly, don't I? Nothing beats a center aisle seat half way from a 90-member concert orchestra even if you are only 15 feet away on the couch.

      Remote controls have driven me crazy. Before I have my lobotomy, I shall use my remaining gray cell to ask my brain surgeon if she understands remote controls. If she doesn't, the operation is cancelled! (Save my garage door opener, though, because it has only one button. Up, down - same button!)

      I don't understand my computer, but I love my mouse! It does four things (two of which I've forgotten) and I manage quite well, thank you very much.

      My Wal-Mart microwave is great! If I don't respond when the cooking time is done, it keeps dinging me, and dinging me, and dinging me. I heard you the first time!

      Cell phone? You call, I answer. I call, you answer! Don't confuse me with text messages, games, photos, and assorted garbage (in blasted menus) about clicking on this or that. I'll call back later. When I truly mess up my cell phone, I find a teenager to sort things out. In the meantime, this is the way I communicate:

      So much for technology. Gotta live with it or you perish!

      Remote controls have driven me crazy. Before I have my lobotomy, I shall use my remaining gray cell to ask my brain surgeon if she understands remote controls. If she doesn't, the operation is cancelled! (Save my garage door opener, though, because it has only one button. Up, down - same button!)

(Back by popular demand, a promotion and raise in pay, a corner office, and the overwhelming desire to keep busy.)