“What are you fellows doing in here?” I asked as I surveyed my father’s fridge for something cold and interesting to drink.
I decided on some Simply Natural lemonade which was meant for the grandkids.
“It is going to give me heartburn, but I am going to drink it,” I told my father.
Dad was watching Queen Elizabeth’s birthday parade for the dozenth time.
“I need you to see after a TV at my house,” Charlie said. “The remote has quit working.”
I told Charlie I would soon be out at his new house after I commiserated with my father for awhile.
“Simplest things first,” I told myself on the drive to Charlie’s new house.
Nobody was home when I arrived so I let myself inside. I turned on YouTube on Charlie’s big 65 inch television. I tuned into the Farting Preacher just for kicks and amusement while I waited. Charlie walked in halfway through the video. Charlie laughed and laughed.
“Is this for real?” Charlie asked.
“Someone just dubbed in some farts, but his mannerisms fit them perfectly.”
“Is this also YouTube?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “And it seems to be streaming just fine.”
It turned out the remote was broken on his little Sharp TV (that’s what I thought after I tried the simplest thing first and that was to change its batteries to no avail) and that is why the other television wouldn’t come on.
“I have an identical Sharp remote at my house,” I told Charlie. “Do you want me to go get it and let’s try it? That way we can make sure it truly is the remote.”
The remote had been sitting in a drawer in my den for years.
“Hurry and go get it,” Charlie said excitedly.
I arrived back at Charlie’s house minutes later and it was indeed what I thought. The TV blinked to life when I hit the power button on my identical remote. Charlie was overjoyed and loaded me up on leaded regular Coca-Colas.
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