When I start thanking God for blessings every day, I don’t begin with my two favorites, because they’re material things.
But I should, because my happy life revolves around two household items I appreciate and prize.
My recliner and my remote. Alliterative favorites.
About half of every night, I sleep in the recliner. Most of my days are spent in it. It’s my good friend.
I’ve been through several editions. The one I have now I bought at a Palmer Highway furniture store, convinced by a sales lady that I would enjoy it. “It is my favorite,” she exclaimed.
I almost hated to buy it, thinking the store would have to order a replacement so she could have another comfortable place to rest from her labors.
It has one flaw, but because of that I’m getting more exercise, which I obviously need.
The handle is easy to push, making the foot rest go up. The go-down handle is almost impossible to maneuver and takes maximum strength. I’m developing quite a muscle in my right arm.
Just recently, I went to get the oil changed in my car, having neglected that chore for months. I went to a place recommended by my Kiwanis friends, which is on Magnolia and on the way to my home.
It had a nice big waiting room and, lo and behold, several couches, table and chairs, and a recliner.
I opted for the obvious comfort and sat myself down. It had, to me, a secret handle, but one of the gentlemen working there came and pushed it for me and I settled in. I had brought a book, expecting a long wait.
But the wait wasn’t all that long and I got the word my car was ready and waiting.
I pushed the button and tried to push down the foot rest, but again, the contraption was too much for me.
Another employee came and got me out of the chair. Nice and neat. I didn’t even feel that stupid!
I got back home to my own comfy chair and my blessed remote.
I like being able to pause through commercials and then zap through commercials.
And zap through other things.
I woke up in the middle of a late-night show recently and discovered some Brit comic named James picking out strange pictures to watch and emphasizing, over and over, that the only ones picked were the ones James wanted to watch.
Maybe you saw it.
I watched this obvious egomaniac for a moment or two and then decided that the main thing I didn’t want to watch was him.
I zapped him with my magic remote and he went welcomingly away.