Bad luck comes in threes, which explains how I spent part of the weekend walking back and forth from the TV to the recliner every time I wanted to change channels.

The chance of all three of our remote controls going down at once seemed remote. Unfortunately, the one that came with the TV when they were still building them square finally gave up, its crucial red button slipping inside the casing. It could be coaxed back out with a paper clip and plenty of patience, but even then it might take several hundred attempted clicks before the channel would actually change. This proved disastrous as I was unable to stop watching the Seahawks game.

Our second remote, purchased specifically as a backup, had died some time earlier. Its AA batteries expired, its secret code by which it communicates with the TV dissolved, and it was useless even with new batteries. I always save the instructions to every device I purchase and safely put them away where I can never find them when the need arises.

Our third remote also suddenly stopped working over the weekend, even though the red light showing it’s alive still blinks. This is the giant version the kids bought us so we could never lose it, because we could never find the other remotes. The strategy worked perfectly. The giant remote can’t be lost, being the largest thing in the living room. Some people sit on it, thinking it’s a modernistic couch, and are surprised to see the channel change whenever they wiggle. For exercise, you can set the remote on the floor and jump from button to button. I change channels so often that I’m afraid it would kill me, so I don’t exercise on my giant remote. I worry that for Christmas they’ll give me a key bigger than the car.

After spending all weekend fiddling with the three remotes and rarely finding success, I finally gave up and decided to change channels the old fashioned way — I’d walk. I soon realized I couldn’t change channels every two seconds, or during every commercial, whichever comes first. Doing that would have worn out the recliner and me with it. So for the first time in years I actually watched an entire TV show from beginning to end, commercials included. It was 60 Minutes, which blathered on about Bill and Melinda Gates and amazed us with the fact that, for another week at least, Andy Rooney is still among the living.

I kept it on the same channel all night, following up 60 Minutes with the Amazing Race, where I discovered they make some nifty coffins in parts of Africa. If you’ve got the money, they’ll build a coffin that shows how you made a living. There was a fish coffin for a fisherman, a huge 35 mm camera coffin for a photographer, and various other creative coffins. It made me wonder what kind of coffin I would buy to depict how I spent my life. Then I realized that if fitted with a couple of hinges for the lid, the giant remote control would make a fine coffin. If my funeral service runs too long, just change the channel.