As some of y’all know, I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box when it comes to all these electronic contraptions we’ve got these days. It’s like everything we use has gone digital, and I’m here rubbing Ben Gay on my arthritic digits. I can use my TV remote alright, but it’s hard flipping from satellite to another source. I’ve gotta switch remotes to control the Roku that has about 200 streaming channels. And once I find the right channel, I spend another 30 minutes searching for my show. On most nights, with all that switching, searching and scrolling, by the time I start watching my show, my brain is plumb wore out and I fall asleep 10 minutes into it.
My 9-year-old grandson can finagle his way through the electronic jungle with ease. More than once, he has grabbed the TV remote from my hands so he can get to his Netflix show without waiting an eternity. When I was his age, I was pretty good at changing the channel on our TV, but then, we only got three channels, four if you count the one from Mexico that televised bullfights every Friday night.
Televisions today are so easy to get a clear picture; just press the ON button. Back in the days, my dad would have me adjust the fine tuning knob while my brother scooted the rabbit-ears antenna around until we got a good picture on that old RCA. I was 11 years old when I discovered that not every televised football game was played in snow.
