Do you think the stereotype about guys being notorious TV remote control hogs is true? I’m a guy, and I’d have to say it was true of me. It’s a control thing; before marriage, in our single days, we held full sway over our television viewing.
The TV was part of our kingdom, our domain, and the remote control was our scepter. Little by little this power is pried from our fingers. First it’s by marriage. Suddenly we are introduced to something called “reality TV” and the “Gilmore Girls”. So we guys adjust and compromise a bit.
Then comes the baby, whose first word in our case was, “Dora.” Our 3 year old has grown up in an on demand world. When I say, “Sorry that show’s not on now.” She replies, “On demand, daddy,” with a look that telegraphs her confusion at my stupidity.
When we got a DVR I thought all of our problems would be resolved. My wife could record her shows, I could record mine, and my daughter hers. We could watch them on our own schedules. Problem solved? No, actually that’s when we discovered the DVR has a storage limit.
As any of you who have a DVR know, when it fills up it starts deleting the oldest programs stored on it. You can, however, flag some programs not to be deleted, and then the negotiation starts. Whose programs get a reprieve and which go to that great big bit bucket in the sky?
The conversations goes something like this. “We can’t delete that; it’s a very special episode where the Wonder Pets save a butterfly.” I counter, “Well we can’t delete the last 7 episodes of Chuck, because I’m going to watch them some day.” My wife says something similar about 13 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
We’ve got 16% of free space left and it’s filling fast. I can’t tell you who will win, but I’m guessing it won’t be me? I’m out of here. If you need me, I’m heading to my man cave. No, it’s not a wood paneled office with decanters of Scotch; it’s the hall bathroom. They’re a guy’s last bastion of man-space, but that’s for another blog.
Do you fight over the TV remote at your house?