The Shawshank Redemption Beat Sheet: Snyder Style

The Blake Snyder “Beat Sheet” (aka BS2) for: The Shawshank Redemption

Director: Frank Darabont

I am going to spoil this movie for those that haven’t seen it. So as a precautionary: if you haven’t seen The Shawshank Redemption, please stop here. On the same note, if you haven’t seen this film, than there is no place for you in society. Leave.

And for those unfamiliar with the idea of a “Beat Sheet,” enlighten yourself before continuing: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beat-sheet

Opening ImageA visual that represents the struggle & tone of the story. A snapshot of the main character’s problem, before the adventure begins.

The film begins with a dark setting. Andy Dufresne, the main character, the hero so-to-speak, sits alone in his car. It is dark out. He is drinking-already intoxicated- looking into the distance at a small house while a hand gun sits on his lap. We are serenaded by the Ink Spots and the sad, sad blues. This opening image sets the stage for a dark, and heavy film.

Set-upExpand on the “before” snapshot. Present the main character’s world as it is, and what is missing in their life.

We cut to a court room where Andy is being questioned by an attorney. He claims his innocence to the murder of his wife and her lover, both were killed the night Andy was sitting in his car outside their house. The judge sentences Andy to “two life sentences,” one for each victim. However, we are left wondering, did he actually kill them?

Theme Stated (happens during the Set-up) What your story is about; the message, the truth. Usually, it is spoken to the main character or in their presence, but they don’t understand the truth…not until they have some personal experience and context to support it.

The theme of this film, as stated in the set-up, is the idea and act of crime. What I mean by this is Andy is sentenced to prison for a crime he did not commit, and his wife is accused of infidelity. A pattern of crimes becomes a recurring theme or motif, like that of solidarity and imprisonment, throughout the film.

Catalyst The moment where life as it is changes. It is the telegram, the act of catching your loved-one cheating, allowing a monster onboard the ship, meeting the true love of your life, etc. The “before” world is no more, change is underway.

Andy is sent to prison and spends his first night in the cell. Life as it is definitely changes. Andy meets Red, another prominent character, among others that will shape his life at Shawshank Prison.

Debate But change is scary and for a moment, or a brief number of moments, the main character doubts the journey they must take. Can I face this challenge? Do I have what it takes? Should I go at all? It is the last chance for the hero to chicken out.

A group of homosexuals at Shawshank, known as the Sisters, antagonized Andy for two straight years. They cornered him and beat him up, insinuated sexual favors. Andy never obliged, however, he was given a fair share of bruises. To the point where it is unclear whether he could survive life in prison.

Break Into Two (Choosing Act Two)The main character makes a choice and the journey begins. We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down, opposite world of Act Two.

Andy befriends the guards while tarring the prison roof by informing the Captain at Shawshank how to save $35,000 without the IRS getting involved. The Captain is appreciative of this favor and allows Andy and his friends some ice-cold beers. Red, Andy, they feel normal again, if only for a second. Andy’s journey now begins as a financial officer for the Warden and the Captain. And so begins Act Two.

B StoryThis is when there’s a discussion about the Theme – the nugget of truth. Usually, this discussion is between the main character and the love interest. So, the B Story is usually called the “love story”.

The motif of crime returns. The B-Story of this film is a double-edged sword: Red smuggling goods for Andy, and Andy laundering money for the Warden. Both are crooks by definition, but both of these sub-plots move the story forward and ultimately give Andy hope at salvation.

The Promise of the Premise This is the fun part of the story. This is when Craig Thompson’s relationship with Raina blooms, when Indiana Jones tries to beat the Nazis to the Lost Ark, when the detective finds the most clues and dodges the most bullets. This is when the main character explores the new world and the audience is entertained by the premise they have been promised.

Andy builds the prison a new library. He maintains a professional and respectable relationship with the Warden, and it seems that he has not only accepted his new life, but thrived as an inmate at Shawshank. Andy is no Indiana Jones, his journey to escape is clandestine, even the audience is oblivious. But the premise is there, none the less.

MidpointDependent upon the story, this moment is when everything is “great” or everything is “awful”. The main character either gets everything they think they want (“great”) or doesn’t get what they think they want at all (“awful”). But not everything we think we want is what we actually need in the end.

Andy is satisfied with the library and with his relationship with the fellow inmates. He is even teaching some of them to read/write, and has helped them receive a high school diploma equivalent.

Bad Guys Close InDoubt, jealousy, fear, foes both physical and emotional regroup to defeat the main character’s goal, and the main character’s “great”/“awful” situation disintegrates.

Andy discovers, from the help of new inmate Tommy, that he is in fact innocent and the man who killed his wife is behind bars in another prison. When Andy takes this news to the Warden for help, the Warden sentences Andy to soldiery confinement for a month. Essentially live in a black pit of darkness the size of a dog cage. Oh, I almost forgot, the Warden also killed Tommy and threatened to end Andy’s life if he objects to continuing business with the Warden’s sketchy finances.

All is LostThe opposite moment from the Midpoint: “awful”/“great”. The moment that the main character realizes they’ve lost everything they gained, or everything they now have has no meaning. The initial goal now looks even more impossible than before. And here, something or someone dies. It can be physical or emotional, but the death of something old makes way for something new to be born.

Andy has no choice but to obey the Warden’s orders. He goes back to keeping the Warden’s financial books and there is no promise or gratification in this practice.

Dark Night of the SoulThe main character hits bottom, and wallows in hopelessness. The Why hast thou forsaken me, Lord? moment. Mourning the loss of what has “died” – the dream, the goal, the mentor character, the love of your life, etc. But, you must fall completely before you can pick yourself back up and try again.

Quite similar to the “All is Lost” beat, this is where Andy realizes the Warden will kill him at the drop of a pin or whenever he sees fit. After ordering Tommy’s execution it becomes clear the Warden has no soul, and Andy is, as Snyder so eloquently puts it, “wallowing in hopelessness.”

Break Into Three (Choosing Act Three)Thanks to a fresh idea, new inspiration, or last-minute Thematic advice from the B Story (usually the love interest), the main character chooses to try again.

Andy and Red talk about Mexico here and Andy utters the most memorable quote of the film, “I guess it comes down to a simple choice really, get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’.” Andy regains the hope of escape and formulates his plan.

FinaleThis time around, the main character incorporates the Theme – the nugget of truth that now makes sense to them – into their fight for the goal because they have experience from the A Story and context from the B Story. Act Three is about Synthesis!

This is arguably the best part of the movie, aside from Morgan Freeman’s voice overs, the Warden closes in on Andy. I won’t explain this scene in profound detail because I want you to watch it, so long as I haven’t spoiled the entire film already. Essentially the Warden is on his way to Andy’s cell, rendering up some form of punishment in his head, upon hearing the news that he is missing. Andy has escaped, and has committed his last crime.

Final Imageopposite of Opening Image, proving, visually, that a change has occurred within the character.

Opposite the dark and ominous the beginning, the final image pictures both Andy and Red on the beach in Mexico, embracing, happy, bright. Andy has his skiff. Red has freedom. All is well.

Now go watch the damn movie.

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A Photographer’s Nonidentical Collection

I took these photographs with an IPhone over the course of the past two weeks. This is not a statement of acclamation for Apple, I will never succumb to their trendy marketing nonsense, though I do love my phone and my photographs. That is not the point, however. I would simply like to draw attention to my work for critique.

What is most important when taking a photograph is perspective. Lighting matters, adherence to a rule of thirds, subject matter, among other things, these are also important, however, the photographer must consider the lens through which he/she wishes audiences to view the image.

All of my photographs below were taken cautiously. I was circumspect in my approach, making sure the perspective given emphasized something about the subject, or my view of the subject. But sometimes photographers get lucky and end up in the right place at the right time. This often happens to me. Knock on wood.

My best photograph (while this may be subject to opinion) is the image of the baseball bat and glove on the baseball field. It was taken at a local ballpark in Burlington, VT, where I am from. The stadium is empty and the field is prepped for before-the-game batting practice. Perhaps I am bias because I love the game of baseball. However, I am not alone in this regard. People can connect with this image. When you see the image it is intended to evoke a visceral reaction of yearning. The viewer should want to pick up the bat, the glove and take the field, an empty field that needs players.

Hopefully the image is aesthetically stimulating, but on a separate note, I did try to adhere to basic photographic image (7)principle. The subject of the photo is in the bottom third of photograph, the lighting is appropriate, the point of view makes sense (i.e. I’m not standing directly over the subject like I don’t know what baseball is), and the framing of the image is intentional- I don’t reveal too much of the stadium because then it would take away from the subject.

Comment with critiques, leave photos of your own. There is always an opportunity to capture what is happening around us in an ever-changing world. I am a firm believer in “living in the moment,” but if we don’t take pictures we’ll forget everything one day, and remain with nothing to show for it.

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18 Holes Later

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Whenever golfers see this flag they let out a sigh of relief. The eighteenth (and last hole) is often a golfer’s best friend. Well maybe I’m speaking for myself, however, after a string of triple bogeys and lost balls I’m ready to hang up the clubs for the year after a round of eighteen. This photo may be the only good that came from the greens today.

The photo is successful in three ways: color scheme, point-of-view, and the rule of thirds. The yellow pole complements the blue sky in this photo so well it makes me tear-up inside, and the red ’18’ completes the primary color scheme. Was this color arrangement planned? No, but it is clear how it is effective here.

Separately speaking, point-of-view may be the most influential aspect of this photo. It is taken from below, as would the photographer for the President. Why? To make the subject appear powerful, God-like, angelic, important, et cetera et cetera. This flag represents accomplishment and triumph. It stands tall and strong in the wind. Was the point-of-view planned? No, the flag is a good three heads taller than me.

Lastly, I’d like to address the rule of thirds. For those few that follow my blog religiously: you’re probably like who the hell is this guy talking about the rule of thirds all the damn time? I apologize. Get used to it. The rule of thirds is adhered to in this photograph, that is, the focus point (the flag) is in the upper and right-most third of the photo. This point attracts the eye, making the photo more aesthetically pleasing. And, was this aspect of the photo planned? I regret to say, no. No it wasn’t.

Well it only took me three hundred words to arrive at the point of this article, but here it is: I’m an incredible photographer. The best. I mean, just look at this picture above and tell me you don’t want to golf, even a little bit. Don’t lie.

Busted Truths Byrne

In 1986 David Byrne, lead vocalist of the revered Talking Heads, produced the film “True Stories” which blurs the line between reality and illusion. The word “True,” as seen in the title, is ironic. Satiric almost. These stories and images that make-up the film are illusions of Byrnes’ reality.

The first scene “Puzzling Evidence” is full of illusions. Byrne alludes to the idea here, with the help of a gospel choir, that the government is corrupt and all the things in life we know to be concrete are, in fact, an illusion. And the choir sings out “Busted evidence!…Busted evidence!” Catchy.

The anthem set in scene one is interrupted by David Byrne riding through Texas, a neighborhood, and barren fields. Scene two, “Stately Homes” is all about contrast. The black-and-white, night-and-day, contrast. It begins with fields, Texas fields. Boring but peaceful, quite peaceful. Suddenly farmers emerge from the hills holding guns. Woah! The guns here, a metaphor of violence, contrasts the peaceful, established landscape.

While I’m lazy, that is, I want the film to outright tell me what the conflict is, opposed to me guessing the meaning behind it, I do not blame Byrnes. After all, visual images often rely on metaphor, and this film uses a lot of it. Any ideas of your own? “Puzzling” isn’t it? Enjoy.

Critical Analysis of a Diaper

Ad

For those of you that think this will be an actual critique on the functions and
practicality of a diaper: leave. Please stop reading this, you are embarrassingly lost. However, I would like to address a Huggies diaper advertisement I saw while flipping through an American Baby magazine. Do not ask me why I, a nineteen-year-old college student, was reading American Baby, it’s not like I have a subscription to the damn magazine. That is not the point, the point is that the advertisement struck a chord in my aesthetic sense, my marketing sense, it soothed my OCD like a deep-tissue massage. In layman’s terms-the ad looked good. This will be a critical analysis of that diaper ad.

To begin, I’d like to address the alignment of the advertisement. The reason this ad effectively caught my eye was due to fact it adheres to the rule of thirds. The viewers eyes, in general, are drawn to the upper or lower thirds of images. That is to say, images with a subject positioned perfectly centered are often off-putting or inexplicably displeasing. The baby’s eyes lie on this line (outlined by the rule of thirds) which forces viewers to stare back into it’s eyes. The photo is also taken below the baby as if to symbolize the power the baby holds. This alignment is representative of the header of the ad, which refers to the baby as, “the boss.” Everything has a purpose. Everything.

Everything, even the color scheme. The color blue is the baby’s shirt, the eyes, the background, the font. Not only is the color blue soothing, the color scheme has a uniformity that is under-appreciated. Think about how different this ad would be with cluttered colors that all distract from one another, like a Pollock painting.  

Lastly, not only is the uniformity inherent in the coloring of the ad but also in the typeface. The font at the top left of the ad is the same font at the bottom of the ad where the Huggies container is. Uniformity is important in advertisement because it ties all aspects of the ad together like a bow for the viewers. Whether or not you’re partial to Huggies, Luvs, Pampers, et cetera, this ad will make you double take because it is effective due to the aforementioned reasons, among others.

On another note, the fact that I just listed three diaper brands without looking them up frightens me. Well, I guess I can throw out this baby magazine, no use for it now. 

Self Critique: A Photograph

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This is a photo of me. Besides for the obvious fact that I look terrific, this photograph is not high quality. Let us begin with the negatives: the lighting, the composition, the rule of thirds (or the lack of adherence to), et cetera, et cetera. For now I will stick with these three criteria. The lighting in this photograph is tricky, that is, any photograph taken outside presents the photographer with the challenge of a dark subject or an overexposed image (an image that is too bright). I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, criticizing my photographer, however, it is difficult to see my face (the most important part of the picture). The building behind me, on the other hand, is illuminated by the sun and distracts from the actual subject. Compositionally speaking the photographer and I were not as circumspect in our set-up of the image as we ought to have been. A marble building will of course stand out in the middle of the day, however, we were oblivious to the obvious and took the picture right in front of the large, marble structure. Now my beautiful face is hidden by the shadows. Oh well. Lastly, I would like to address the rule-of thirds. For those that do not know the rule-of thirds describes vertical and horizontal lines that divide an image into thirds in which the vertical lines and horizontal lines intersect at four points in the image. These points (see image below) are the points that attract the viewer’s eye.

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Therefore, the subject of the image should be placed (when applicable) in one of these locations. It is clear I did not follow this rule. Shame on me. At least I’m good looking, right?

War On Television

             I awoke suddenly to the sound of my disgruntled father yelling at the television: “What the hell kind of throw was that?” I had overslept. I rubbed my tired eyes and fumbled for my glasses on the bedside table before I slumped down the stairs, half-awake, half-asleep. Watching television at my house had become much more than a leisurely activity.

            My father keeps the T.V. volume particularly high and never changes the channel, just to let everyone know what is most important. Changing either is to commit household suicide. In other words, watching T.V. is like abiding by the law. We sit and watch my father’s shows at a volume he is partial to. No questions. You see, my dad governs this remote control monopoly. Army of one. But where there’s injustice, there is always someone who takes it upon them self to stop such anarchy. This heroine was my sister. She used to mute the T.V. and hide the remote from my dad because he watched the television “too dang loud.” From an early age she learned, through confrontations my parents had with each other over what to watch or what the volume should be set at, that to touch the remote is to get in trouble with Daddy. Her thought process is pretty easy to follow really. If you don’t like what’s on the television set, you steal the remote. Simple. I, on the other hand, have taken a separate approach: I will berate my family for their poor television choices but I have yet to steal the remote.

            In fact, before now I was oblivious to my father’s behavior. I would partake in his games and succumb like a puppet to his television rules. Today was different however. Perhaps it was because I was particularly tired this morning, or because of my headache or because all I wanted was something to eat, but the football game my dad was watching began to frustrate me. And for the first time I understood why my mother hated football. It wasn’t the game per-se but the way in which my dad experienced and lived football as if it were a life-style. Dad then shouted something at the quarterback. And I looked at him, which as far as I’m concerned, was the absolute look of death; and thought: how can I stop my head from pounding?

            Some minutes later the game was interrupted by a commercial break and my dad left the room, but not before mumbling something explicit under his breath, something regarding the referee’s lack of understanding of the game and his “s—play-calling.” Still sleep-deprived I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. In fact, I didn’t think at all, I just acted impulsively. I stood up from the couch and glanced to see if my father was watching and guilefully glided across the room like some sort of detective and reached for the remote. While feeling uncomfortably malicious and conniving, I turned the T.V. off and ran back up the stairs with the remote and when I reached the landing I realized how unmethodical this heist was. I never planned out what to do once I actually stole the remote. I looked around frantically for a clever hiding spot. I ran for my room and placed the remote under my bed. Not until then was I awake and satisfied. Exhale.   

            Often when I’m anxious or scared I forget to breathe. I was scared my dad would punish me because I stole the remote from him. Why? This relationship between remote and human is strikingly significant, but it’s never talked about. Do we ever notice the remote control when it is sitting on the couch and no one is watching television? Why does all hell break loose when the remote is missing and war is waged on who is to blame for such a heinous crime? Although many parents use the remote to control television content in order to protect their kids from inappropriate material, this behavior actually leads to a dangerous concentration of power.

            Before remote controls were invented there were people. Remember when you had to change the channel on the television set manually? My dad suggested he burned more calories watching T.V. on a given weekend growing up than he would have running a marathon. Of course this claim is an exaggeration, but in a sense the remote was created to make watching television more relaxing and less tedious. The first TV remote control, called the “Lazy Bones,” was developed in 1950 by Zenith Radio Corporation (“History”). The “Lazy Bones” used a long cable that ran from the television to the viewer (“History”). A motor in the T.V. operated the tuner through the remote control and by pushing buttons on the remote control; viewers rotated the tuner clockwise or counterclockwise, depending on whether they wanted to change the channel to a higher or lower number (“History”). Long cables, however, proved to be dangerous and not ideal. Zenith engineer Eugene J. Polley later invented the “Flash-Matic,” the company’s first, real wireless television remote (“History”). Although this new invention made watching television more relaxing, television content was still restricted to a handful of channels. While you could control what you watched from the confines of a comfortable couch, there was still very little to control.

            Today, however, media is a larger part of society than it was decades ago and the numbers continue to grow. Even if we try to seclude ourselves from television and ignore media, it finds a way to reach us. One-hundred years ago television didn’t exist. Slowly we developed televisions to involve colored images and now we have 3-D cinema. In a few years or a decade perhaps, television may easily be replaced by something newer or more high-tech. This idea is what I like to call digital Darwinism. Some technologies will last, but most will suffer the harsh reality most mediums inevitably face: extinction. While television is constantly innovating, the ways in which we use the technology have never changed.  

            Like all media, television is meant to be controlled. Those that watch T.V. control what they watch with a remote. With the power of a remote we are able to turn-on and turn-off the T.V. by the click of a button. We can mute the audio during undesirable commercials, and we can even fast-forward or skip television content with the wireless remote. With all of the resources at our fingertips we have the responsibility to decide what to watch and what to pay attention to. This idea is referred to as “information filtering” (Sterin). With all of the media that is thrown at us, we cannot digest all of it. The remote control acts as a device that allows us to be “automatically selective about what we notice” and forces us to distinguish “between meaningful information and useless information” (Sterin). My dad filters for us. He will block certain channels that he has deemed inappropriate for my sister and I by changing settings on the remote that will impede our ability to stream that content. He also monopolizes family television hours. For instance, he “channel surfs.” This means he refuses to remain on one channel for more than five seconds, flipping through channel after channel, as if he has television ADHD. Essentially, we cannot change the volume or the television content. While he intends to shelter my sister and me from inappropriate material, his behavior gives him power that he refuses to give up. In a 2010 article in the Journal of Supercomputing, Chin-Feng Lai, an assistant professor at National Chung Cheng University in Taiwan, and his colleagues discuss their creation of a “context-aware multi-model remote controller for electronic home devices in order to relieve the user of a nuisance of enormous amount of remote controllers” (Lai). Although Lai’s “remote” was a failed experiment and only exists in a hypothetical reality, he argued this remote would be more powerful and more capable than any other remote thus created. The remote itself is more powerful, albeit the user or my father in this case, is more powerful as well. While television is meant to be controlled, these powerful remotes evoke adversity in relationships because there is an imbalance of power that makes at least one person unhappy.

            Each household is different, but someone must be in control of the T.V. remote. Author of “Families in Later Life” and ex-chair member of the Human Development and Family Sciences at Oregon State University, Alexis Walker, presented the idea in the Journal of Marriage and Family that stereotypical gender roles and gender disputes can, and oftentimes do, derive from couples’ exercise of power through a remote control device. In Walker’s study she found that women were more likely than men to say that remote control use was frustrating to them, simply because the men were in control (Walker). She suggests understanding who has control in a certain relationship is as easy as determining who has the remote control device. For example, my father makes all the decisions while my mother remains compliant. Why? He has the remote, always, and refuses to surrender that authority. Another finding Walker shows is that “children of heavy RCD [remote control device] users are also heavy users, suggesting that parents pass on this behavior” to their kids (Walker). This claim suggests we can anticipate the relationship a child may have with the remote before they can even pronounce the word television. It is frightening to believe that this behavior is cyclical. My sister and I didn’t have a choice whether or not we would be heavy RCD users, however, if we remain blind to the destruction power causes, we will inevitably pass-down these behaviors to our children as well. So on and so forth. Although not intentionally, my father influenced my sister and me to behave and react the way we do.  

            I lied down in relief and contemplated going back to bed. My head felt surprisingly at ease. I wondered what the next step in my devious scheme would be, it had nearly been ten minutes and my dad, emerging from the bathroom, would be soon to realize his football game was not on T.V. any longer. “Who turned off the damn television?” I heard echo up the empty stairwell. I rolled over in bed.

            My dad uses the remote in order to protect his children from inappropriate material which is understandable. In fact, this is what remotes are designed to do: control content. However, use of such device causes tension in relationships and causes my sister and me to steal remotes, which suggests we search and desire complete control. We crave the remote that will control our lives and make things the way we want them, but it is a fantasy. Instead of control we find power imbalance. My father, for example, has a dangerous concentration of power in the household because he decides what others can and cannot do with the click of a button. It’s difficult to accept that parents inevitably become the remotes for their children, but we will always have the choice not to watch. We will always have the choice to reflect. And we will always have the choice to press pause. Do not let the remotes control how you behave, not ever. 

            This idea of controlling technology and controlling content has never changed. We flip through channels; stop at times to listen to something we may want to watch, and then continue on our quest to find something meaningful. The remote control is the reason we like television, because in the end wouldn’t we all like to be able to control our own lives with a remote? We would all like to turn-off the T.V. during the bad parts, fast forward through the slow parts, and replay the good parts. This concept, of course, would be a great deal of power to have. The remote control designers didn’t foresee their technology yielding this much power, nor was this their intention. In no way am I blaming Zenith or anyone for the injustice, or the flawed world remotes have created. This is no one’s fault. I am merely shedding light on what T.V. has become. It is a game of control and power.

            However, life isn’t necessarily about remotes. It was never about remotes. It is about the fact that we live in a world that is forever uncontrollable. Yet, we have an insatiable desire to control everything. Only those cognizant of this idea can live life happily because those that remain oblivious will never be able to see the bigger picture: they are fighting a war they cannot win. This is a war on television. People become numb to their actions when the actions are second nature. Parents control their kids to help them, to shelter them; however, their attempts are futile. Instead, they are building a world for their children where aristocratic control is OK. They are indirectly teaching their kids that media is everything. And if this is true there remains a simple choice: control the remote, or let it control you.

            Realizing there was no feasible way to turn the television back on, my dad stormed upstairs to find the remote that had been stolen from him. “Where is it?” Dad asked, “Where is it?” Becoming inpatient by my silence, he removed the pillow I had buried my face in. “Where is the remote? The game is still on, I wasn’t done watching,” his tone now overly assertive. I wondered what my dad would do if I just laid on my bed unresponsive. He would interrogate me all day if he had to, I was sure of it. Our tradition of watching football together on Sundays had become a game of cat and mouse, and I was cornered. His face squished inward as anger solidified and I remained silent. It was a cold, November afternoon and the sun gleamed through the window with an ethereal glow. I looked outside. Leaves like wildfire fell from the trees and all was still. It was calming to look at something other than the television. “Where the hell is the remote?” He asked again. It was under my mattress, just inches below where I sat. I smiled. My dad was furious.  

Works Cited

“History of the TV Remote Control.” Zenith. Zenith Electronics, n.d. Web. 12 Nov. 2013.

Lai, Chin-Feng, Yueh-Min Huang, and Han-Chieh Chao. “A Context-Aware Multi-Model           Remote Controller for Electronic Home Devices.” Journal of Supercomputing 54.1       (2010): 43-60. Academic Search Premiere. Web. 14 Oct. 2013.

Sterin, Charles. Mass Media Revolution. 2nd ed. Pearson Education Inc., 2012. 31-33. Print.

 

Walker, Alexis J. “Couples Watching Television: Gender, Power, and the Remote Control.” Journal of Marriage and Family 58.4 (1996): 813-23. Academic Search   Premiere. Web. 14 Oct. 2013.