Click: Farewell to the father of the TV remote

One of the best things about reading the obituaries – especially those that make it to the pages of The New York Times -  is coming across the bio of someone who designed or invented something that’s quirky, iconic, commonplace.  Over the years, I’ve written about the brains behind the ant farm, and the guy who designed the ubiquitous “We Are Happy To Serve You” cardboard coffee cup used in NYC coffee shops.

Today’s entry is the inventor of the first version of something that is – unlike the ant farm and the Manhattan carry-out cup – an item that is used in, I’m guessing, 99.9999% of American homes on a daily basis. I give you the late Eugene Polley, creator of the Zenith Flash-Matic, the first wireless TV remote control.

“Just think!,” an advertisement breathlessly proclaimed that year. “Without budging from your easy chair you can turn your new Zenith Flash-Matic set on, off, or change channels. You can even shut off annoying commercials while the picture remains on the screen.” (Source: NY Times)

Mr. Polley budged from his easy chair, metaphorically speaking, for the last time in Downers Grove, Illinois. He has changed the ultimate channel, and shut off his final annoying commercial.

The gun shape, by the way, was chosen so that people could “shoot out” those annoying commercials – which in 1955 could have been for any number of items no longer in existence (“I’m hungry, I’m hungry for good things to eat/For Sugar Jets, Sugar Jets, candied and sweet”) or no longer advertised on TV (“Take a Puff, It’s Springtime,” then “Call for Philip Morris” and let him know that “Winston Tastes Good Like a Cigarette Should.”).

In fact,the president of Zenith, in encouraging the remote’s invention, did so because, while he believed that TV would be a popular medium, he was also:

…certain that viewers would revolt en masse against television commercials, by his lights a growing scourge.

Commercials certainly were and are a scourge, well worth shooting out. Mostly. I mean, who’d shoot out an ad for Snuggies?

And, after all, while the TV shows of 1955 could sure be annoying, too (c.f., Milton Berle), there weren’t all that many channels to sort through. Things were pretty much the local station for the three (then) major networks – ABC, CBS, NBC – and maybe, since it was just coming on the scene, NET (the precursor to PBS).

Never leading edge on anything, my family, naturally, did not have a remote control for our TV. So we had to get up off the couch (or the floor), walk the four feet to the TV, and turn the dial. The only people I knew who had a remote were my Aunt Margaret and Uncle Ralph, and theirs may have been tethered, not wireless.

Mr. Polley was quite proud of his invention, claiming:

“The flush toilet may have been the most civilized invention ever devised, but the remote control is the next most important. It’s almost as important as sex.”

O-kay, Mr. Polley.

While I may not entirely agree with his assessment of the continuum of civilization, the channel cruiser has made it possible to live in a world in which we can chose from hundreds of TV options. Can you imagine trying to operate a dial with over 900 numbers on it? (I suppose that, rather than have one mega-dial, a TV would instead have three: one for the 100’s, one for the 10’s, one for the single digits. Still, it would be really hard to surf if you had to touch those dials in order to do so.)

Anyway, for something that Mr. Polley believed to be almost as important as sex, he was not especially well-compensated, that’s for sure. He was awarded a $1,000 bonus for his invention.

Maybe Zenith figured it wouldn’t last.

Which it didn’t.

Polley’s shoot-out Flash-Matic was replaced by another Zenith model, and its inventor – Robert Adler – was often credited with being the father of the remote’s invention. Adler’s Space Command became the standard from 1956, when it was introduced, until the 1980’s, when infrared technology took over.

“Not only did I not get credit for doing anything,” [Polley] told The Chicago Tribune in 2006, “I got a kick in the rear end.”

Still, Polley outlived Adler by five years. And isn’t outliving well is the best revenge?

So click to you, Mr. Polley, click to you.