Remote

My old friend Bert will be 88 years old next month - that's if he makes it of course. I went round to see him last Friday. He has recently spent two weeks in hospital following  an episode that involved significant loss of blood from his back passage.  It was all very concerning but the issue seems to have settled down now with no need for surgery. I tried to read the hospital discharge report but I could not make head nor tail of it with all the abbreviations and the obscure medical terms.

When I went round, his younger son Philip was there. He is effectively Bert's main carer. 

The telephone rang and it was Bert's estranged wife Pat at the other end of the line. I spoke with her for a little while before passing the handset across to Philip. A conversation began about her television and the remotes that work it. Many older people do not find it easy to operate  televisions these days when it all used to be very easy. There was the on/off button, the volume control knob and we only had two channels to choose from - BBC or ITV.

Of course I could only hear one side of the amusing conversation  but it went something like this:-

PHILIP:  What's the problem Mum? ...You need to press the AV button... It's the one next to the TV button... It's got TV above it Mum... No. I said the AV button... It's at the top on the right... They are next to each other... The AV button is on the left... No Mum, I didn't say AB... I said AV. V for violin, not B for Bobby... Yes. That's the one you need to press... No Mum - you didn't need to switch it off... No Mum! Switch it back on again!... I am not shouting Mum. I am just telling you what to do... Just press the AV button... It's next to the TV button. It's at the top... You don't need to change the channel... It's on the sheet I did for you... It's on the shelf... The one under the telly... No Mum you can't talk into it.. You have mixed it up with the phone... Press the AV button. The one next to the TV button...

And so it went on.

It was nice to see Bert again. He seemed calmer than before - less aggressive in his confused comments about Philip and Pat. I brought him a can of Jamaican rum and coke. At the end of a night in the local pub, he would often treat himself to a Bacardi and coke after three or four pints of Tetley's bitter.

Then he would toddle off down the road to Napoleon's Casino where he'd drink a couple more pints or three  and mingle with the other late night regulars and previously unseen visitors but he never gambled. Frequently, he would head home at three or four in the morning, getting up around midday. 

Oh yes, the old boy was a bit of a rogue in his time.  In retirement, he dissed the old maxim: "Early to bed, early to rise, makes Jack healthy, wealthy and wise". That was never Bert's way.  I hope he makes it to 88 and I think he will. In spite of his ailments, he's a tough old bloke.