Am in the house alone sat looking at it standing there in the corner staring at me, just a little red light at the bottom of it is the only sign of life. It's been there for years. Gets dusted once a week and costs me £145.50 every year, even if I don't switch it on. If I turned off the colour could I get away with just paying £49? They wouldn't believe me, would they?
Can never outstare it for it never blinks and I need to move now and then, to get a beer or go to the loo (you can't have one without the other).
Don't know what all these buttons do on "The Remote".
"The Remote!" A thing of wonder, but more of that later.
Although being a bit of a history buff there are only three dates I can remember, my birthday ( I even struggle with that now at my age), the Battle of Hastings and the first time I can remember watching television. It was 2nd June 1953, the coronation of Queen Elizabeth. So I was seven knocking on eight when "the thing in the corner" loomed into my life.
I lived on a housing-estate, one of many built during and after the war to alleviate the housing shortage, bungalows made of asbestos (no Health & Safety Executive in those days). It was just after the war and nobody had any money, not that we knew we did not have any money, except "The Smiths". The Smiths were the only family with a car and the only one with a tv.
A TV? Still to this day I am not sure I understood what it was all about that sunny day in June. A large wooden box and, at the top, a small glass square on which was a black and white moving picture. I had seen moving pictures before at the cinema, but this one was different, this one was in someone's house, very intimate, although the room was packed with people who had come in from the street party to watch it. Don't think I stayed long, there was cake and jelly to eat and games to play and of course "God save our gracious Queen..."
We "upsized" when I was ten. The bungalows were demolished and fancy new houses were built for us. Still had no money and hence did not have a tv. But things were changing now, people were getting more affluent and it wasn't only "The Smiths" that had a tv the people next door had one as well.
"Does Kenny want to come round and watch television?" To true Kenny does, so every afternoon I would go next door and sit on the floor in front of the tv and be entranced for an hour. Muffin the Mule, Andy Pandy, Wooden Tops, delights without end.
No 24 hour tv in those days, just a few hours and then "The interlude". Timings of programmes (mainly live) were not very accurate in those day so interludes were inserted to keep the audience entertained. I can remember sitting for 3 hours watching a pair of hands trying to make a pot on a potters-wheel and sixty years later I don't think it's finished yet.
"We are getting a television." A statement from mum which gave me many sleepless nights until the day arrived when I came home from school and there it was, "the thing in the corner", in my corner.
No falling out over what to watch, you watched what was on. You watched for two minutes and then the picture would break-up and dad would jump up with a "bloody-hell not again" and he would spend what seemed like an eternity twiddling the "Vertical Hold" or the "Horizontal Hold" to regain the picture. I never saw a whole programme until I was in my teens.
22nd September 1955 (don't remember this date) the first day of ITV switch-over, we all sat with bated breath whilst dad counted to ten and then turned the dial (expecting the thing to blow-up) to be confronted by "Gibbs SR toothpaste" in large letters.
Got my own home now, no TV, too busy being married and decorating. I did get to see "Match of the Day" at a friend's house after going out to the pub on a Saturday night, and rushing back with fish and chips for supper.
Now got a black and white TV, did watch it now and then, cannot really remember what I did watch.
Walking through the town one day my attention was attracted by a crowd gathered outside a shop window. I slowly mingled with the crowd and made my way towards the front and there it was, Wimbledon , in glorious colour.
And then one day, "Light-of-my-life, the Olympics are on in a few weeks, do you fancy getting a colour TV"?
Growing older now, children arrive, too many things to do beside sat gaping at "the thing in the corner".
Still don't watch much, do not have the patience to sit for an hour watching it and the sound tracks to most programmes are far too loud. But I do enjoy sitting there with The Remote, flicking from one channel to another, much to my wife's consternation.
I still have a little smile to myself every time I see The Remote, for it reminds me of the day when I managed to pluck up enough courage to change channel without asking permission.
