One of my favourite features on the TV remote controls we own is their mute buttons, renamed, since 2015, our Donald Trump buttons.
It is so handy to be able to instantly stop the sound of a terrible politician or the horrific scenes of war and natural disasters, not to mention the new blight of election deniers, dedicated doomsayers and committed conspiracy quacks. My getting to sleep at night depends on my mind not being filled with horsecrap and heartaches when my head hits the pillow.
Given all this, imagine my surprise and delight to discover this week that the remote control for my first-ever hearing aids has a mute button. I can now filter out sounds around the house I don’t want to hear including those being made by the people I live with.
I hold the little device discreetly in my right hand and if I need to take a break from listening, all I need to is press mute. All these years, in order to mute the voices of the people who I call my family, I have had to run into my bedroom and slam the door or race out to the shed and hide behind the lawnmower.
I don’t intend to leave the impression that I live with objectionable people. They are wonderful in every way it is possible to be wonderful. Nevertheless, there are a few phrases expressed now and then that I’d rather not hear.
I find my myself muting:
“And another thing …”
“Do you know where the fifty dollars in the cash jar disappeared to?”
“Did you eat the last …”
I don’t know if it’s right or wrong to mute your family. I guess I’ll find that out when I face my judgment in the next dimension after I ask St. Peter to please speak up.
But whether right or wrong, I have to say …
It’s kind of fun.
©2021 Jim Hagarty
