The Mute Button (Suzanne Forster

Is this the best invention of the modern age or what? Last week I was complaining about technology. This week I’m drunk with power. My only complaint is that the mute button on my new remote control is way too small. Why didn’t they make it huge? Obviously making mute buttons tiny and hard to find is a conspiracy to keep viewers from muzzling obnoxious commercials, certain TV weathermen and American Idol contestants. That’s probably smart on the manufacturer’s part. I use the mute button more than any other button on the remote.

Once I found it, it didn’t take my brain long to zero in on the exact location and lock it in like sonar. Left side, center, directly under the Volume toggle and right above the Help button. I can now locate the little bitty thing in total darkness. I can do it in my sleep! The other night I grabbed the remote and muted Craig Ferguson in the middle of his monologue.

I actually discovered the mute button a couple years ago, but for some reason I only realized recently how empowering it is. I can stop anyone, mid-word, no matter what they’re saying. Icons like Barbara Walters can be silenced at my whim. Diane Sawyer better watch her step too. Bill Gates? Warren Buffett? The President? Poof. One click and they’re gone. At times that feels so darn good I turn them back on again just so I can turn them off.

Also, Mute buttons are the perfect antidote to brain fatigue, an occupational hazard for writers. When the words dry up, I turn on the television, pick a program I’d love to watch (if I wasn’t on deadline), and let the well fill back up again. When the commercials come on, I mute them and return to my book, but the rule is when the commercial’s over, I turn the sound back on, no matter what. I’m supposed to be watching TV, not writing. I don’t know why it works. Maybe it’s reverse psychology, but before the TV show is over, I’m so absorbed in my book that I’ve forgotten to turn the sound back on. It happens every time. I missed the finals of Dancing With the Stars that way. I actually thought Mario won.

Another great thing about the mute function. Advertisers thought they were so clever when they designed commercials to come on several decibels louder than the regular programming. Ever notice how loud commercials are? How you always look up and wince? The plan is that the noise will get our attention, and we’ll stop whatever we’re doing and watch. I definitely stop what I’m doing, just long enough to hit that blessed mute button. It’s a natural reaction to all the noise. So, their plan backfired. Suzanne--one. Madison Avenue marketing geniuses—zero. Hee.

Mute buttons may be the perfect, non-confrontational form of rejection. The rejectee doesn’t know it’s happening, so nobody gets hurts, but the rejector feels good anyway. At least she’s in total control of something in her life. How often does that happen these days? In my life, darn little. Apparently, there are even mute buttons for the telephone. I don’t have one, and I’m not quite sure how they work, but it opens up new realms of possibilities. If you’re trapped by a long-winded telemarketer, who won’t let you get a word in even to say no thanks, you could simply mute them, carry on with whatever you were doing, and let them exhaust themselves talking. Cool.

So, do we need a Mute button for real life? I wouldn’t mind clicking the dh off when he drones on about computer gadgetry, money, and politics that I don’t agree with. I’m sure he’d love to click me off when I start talking about redecorating the condo, story plotlines, and politics he doesn’t agree with.

But I’m probably too curious by nature. Commercials are one thing, but I’d always be wondering what I missed if I clicked off a real person. And I hope whoever clicked me off might be a little curious too. Taken to the extreme, would we all become drunk with power and keep clicking until the entire world had been silenced? It seems like a possibility, in which case, we’d either have to come up with subtitles or learn to read lips. Hm, I think I like conversation better, even conversation about computer gadgetry.

Maybe it’s enough that I can silence those American Idol contestants? You know the ones I’m talking about.

Suz