by Mike McHugh
In the movie Click, Adam Sandler had this remote control that he could use to affect time. He could make time go backwards or forwards, or he could stop it altogether. That would be a pretty convenient device. If you’re in line at the grocery store waiting for some customer with the mental capacity of a turnip to enter the right PIN number, you can just fast-forward a few weeks until it’s your turn. It sure beats leafing through the tabloids at the checkout.
I would be satisfied to have just the stop time feature. On the coffee table in my den are about eighteen remotes—some that control devices I no longer own. One has an eject button for eight-track tapes. Surely one of them has got to have a button to stop time.
Just one hour would do the trick. Just think of the things that I could get done with one measly hour added to my day:
- I could clean the empty beer cans out of the back of my pickup. (They were from a camping trip, and I’m sticking to that story.)
- I could clean out the garage, which I would need to do in order to find the truck.
- I could clean up my inbox, or as a minimum, deal with the requests from all the “saucy college hotties” who’ve expressed an interest in chatting with me online.
- I could celebrate National Four Prunes Day, which happens to be today, although the aftermath might occupy me for another hour or more.
- I could maybe complete one line on my Federal tax return.
- I could weed the garden and maybe uncover the tomato plant I’d stuck in there last spring.
- I could take over supper duties from my wife for one evening, and still have 55 minutes left after calling Domino’s.
- In one hour, I could at least read through the items on my “honey-do” list.
- I could get around to calling my Mom, which would only take 10 minutes because all she has to talk about these days is the weather, but it would take me 50 minutes to find her number.
- I could brush our three cats and, in the process, collect enough fur to make my wife a winter coat.
- I could clean out the fish tank, although from the looks of the water, I might need a special permit from the county to dispose of it.
There is an endless number of productive things that I could do with that hour. In so doing, I could relieve myself of at least some of the burden that modern day living imposes in giving me too much to do and not enough time to do it.
But, knowing myself as I do, I probably wouldn’t get any productive work done. I would just spend that extra hour on the sofa with a six-pack of beer, some chicken wings, and a punch bowl full of blue cheese. I’d turn on the TV and watch a couple reruns of The Simpsons. Then I’d feel sorry for myself for having completely wasted such a precious gift.
On second thought, Mr. Sandler, you can keep your blasted time-stopping remote control.