COLUMN: It's a fierce up and down battle

By Tobin Barnes
Think the Hundred Years War was long? The Wars of the Roses?

They can’t hold a candle to the War of the Sexes. It began in the mists of time and won’t end until human life finally morphs into a higher form. And by the looks of things, that higher life form isn’t coming anytime soon.

Battles rage on many fronts in the War of the Sexes. Men have their sacred ground where they prefer to fight and women theirs.

But one battle front rages where neither side will concede an inch to the other. It’s where the battles are most virulent in nature and no-holds-barred in aspect.

That’s right. You guessed it.

It’s on the home front in the battle over the thermostat.

Man, it can be merciless.

Most of the tactics are based on subterfuge and chicanery.

Men quietly and secretly creep across enemy lines to turn the thermostat down, while women quietly and secretly tiptoe over the trip wires to turn it back up. Uh huh, both sides utilize the sneak attack. They appear to be doing something else, but that something else always takes them past the thermostat where the heat gets jacked back up or jacked back down.

Then, before long, the other side realizes he or she has been blind-sided again. Bitter protests arise and plans laid to counter-attack at the earliest opportunity.

Back and forth, back and forth it goes. Thermostat manufacturers will soon recommend regular dial lubrication, maybe WD-40, because the control gets moved so much.

But I have just acquired a new weapon to use in the battle on the heat front. It’s a programmable remote.

We just got a gas stove to replace our pellet stove, and it’s regulated digitally with that remote.

Hallelujah!

You see, I’m half geek.

I don’t mind reading manuals and instructions. I almost kinda dig it. Yeah, I’m that far gone.

My wife, on the other hand, abhors instructions. In her eyes, they’re the bane of mankind.

But she can do puzzles—you know, like those two bent nails hooked together?—as if she’s Einstein. I just marvel at such ability. Give me those two nails and ask me to separate them? Soon my eyes glaze over. I hate puzzles and riddles. Usually don’t even try.

Sudoku? Forgetaboutit.

But detailed instructions? Love ’em.

And this thermostat remote has detailed instructions on steroids.

I can set a standard temperature to start the stove and turn it off. I can even pre-program four temperatures a day Monday through Friday and four temperatures a day for the weekend.

My wife will never—I repeat, never—read the instruction manual.

This is a major coup in the battle of the thermostat.

All she’ll ever be able to do is turn the stove on or off. Of course, even that’s a dangerous weapon in this grim war. If only I could dismantle that option and keep the operation strictly programmable.

Hey, maybe that’s in the manual, too.