We returned from CasinoPalooza 3 on Friday evening. Farmer H left for the auction shortly after unpacking, and I retired (heh, heh, that's for blog buddy Sioux, that RETIRED reference) to my dark basement lair. Farmer H was not gone as long as usual, what with only 12 people showing up for the auction. He said he got some bargains, though.
Anyhoo...I didn't know any of that yet. All I knew was that it was sometime between 9:00 and 10:00 when I heard Farmer H stumping around upstairs in the master bathroom. Nothing scary there. But THEN I heard him stumping down the basement steps. THAT is frightening. You never want your dark basement lair invaded by Farmer H. He has a penchant for standing in the doorway to chat, then turning as if he's leaving, and emitting more gas than a wrecked tanker truck.
"The TV won't work. I tried to change the channel, and it won't do anything."
"Did you take it off the satellite?"
"No. I didn't do nothin'. Just tried to change the channel."
"I'll be up in a minute."
So I hiked up those 13 steps to see if I could help Farmer H fix the TV/DISH/remote. A request from him that is kind of like me asking Farmer H to edit my writing.
"What did you touch?"
"Who was the last person to use the remote, then?"
"I don't know. The PONY? Before we left Wednesday morning for the casino."
"Did we leave it on? The TV? Or did Genius and Friend turn it on before they left later?"
"I don't know if they turned it on."
"So when you came in from the auction, you turned it on, and..."
"It WAS on. I tried to turn channels, and it won't move."
"Sometimes the other one does that. You have to punch in the channel number, not try change it from the guide when you first turn it on."
"You try it."
"Okay. It won't do anything. What was the last thing you touched?"
"Nothing! I just picked it up to change the channel."
"It's on CBS. We don't watch that. I wonder if Genius had it on, then they did something weird to turn it off...So, you came in and turned it on..."
"NO! YOU turned it on! When we got back. Before I went to the auction."
"Yeah. It was on when I got home from the auction."
"I'm pretty sure you turned it on while I was unpacking."
"No, YOU did."
"Maybe. But you were watching it."
"No I wasn't!"
"You were sitting right there while I unpacked! Talking to me!"
"I wasn't watching TV."
"Well, I can't imagine you sitting there with the TV off, and if I really
turned it on, you were watching it, and everything was fine, because I
can't imagine you not putting it on your channels."
"I wasn't watching it! Stop trying to blame me!"
"I'm not. I sitting here with this remote, trying to figure out what you might have touched before it quit working."
"I didn't touch the remote!"
"Don't yell at me!"
"I'm NOT YELLING! YOU ALWAYS START BLAMING ME!"
"I am NOT blaming you. I'm trying to find out what to do to fix the remote. Now I remember! You
were watching football! You told me something about the game as I was
walking around unpacking. That's why it's on CBS. For football."
"I was watching football and switching to MASH."
"So you hit the button that switches to the last station..."
"I DIDN'T DO IT! Stop questioning me, trying to blame ME!"
"Stop yelling. I'm only trying to find out the last buttons pushed. How else am I going to fix it?"
"I am SICK OF YOU SAYING I MESSED IT UP!"
"I didn't say that. I am trying to help you. I walked my sore knees all the way upstairs to help YOU, and now you're yelling at me."
"I'M NOT YELLING!"
"Okay. If you don't want me to help..."
"I can't take it anymore!"
"Just stop. Look at yourself."
"YOU JUST STOP! STOP TALKING NOW!"
So I did. Not a word. Farmer H continued to yell that he was sick of me and
and how I wouldn't shut up. But I wasn't talking at all. I raised my
hands in question as to the "wouldn't shut up" part.
"NOW YOU'RE MOCKING ME! SHUT UP!"
"It won't even turn off now."
Farmer H went to hold in the button on the DISH receiver until it went off. I turned it back on with the remote. The screen showed that it was loading the program guide, which might take 10 minutes. Then it worked.
UMMM...he's welcome. Though I didn't say so, and went downstairs to the peace of my dark basement lair.
And thus ended The Great Remote Control Controversy of 2017.