My Turn: Is there a product that will help me turn off the television?

As I am getting on in years I, like many of my contemporaries, have more difficulty sleeping through the night. I find myself getting up to read or worse yet, in moments of weakness, I turn on the "tube."

I find that as an unintended consequence of being extensively exposed to the television at all hours of the day and night, I have become enamored with the "As Seen on TV" and other infomercials, and I must confess that acquisition of these inane products has become a bit of an obsession.

My "gateway product" was a simple garden hose that I would never have to roll up again. It worked as advertised — and the game was on.

I have since then acquired those nose strips that remove the hideous and unsightly debris from the clogged pores upon my nose, followed shortly thereafter by a ShamWow, which could pick up spills in my car as well as function as a face mask on the fly.

Lest I forget, I also picked up a password protection app to prevent someone from stealing my identity or hacking into my Netflix account — only to find I forgot the damn password to open the app.

I acquired a ThighMaster to address those flabby cellulite markings on my thighs before bathing suit season, a purchase that necessitated acquiring waxing strips to address those unsightly nether regions.

And how could I live without those nonstick pans, the better to impress my houseguests with my ability to melt candies without a cleanup care in the world?

And let’s not forget those essential "kitchen knives" that can cut through a leather shoe as well as neatly filet my fish — and by being prompted as I placed my order, I was able to "get a second set at half price" so that I could share my joy by gifting them to some unsuspecting newlyweds about to embark upon their matrimonial and gastronomic journeys together.

I believe I may have gone too far when I acquired a "nasal lavage apparatus" to punish me for having sludgy nasal secretions. I sought out professional help, asking my family doctor about my emotional instability and associated "compulsive purchasing disorder." I requested that he prescribe that "miracle mood disorder medication" that I had seen on the TV — all the while realizing that the meds could give me myriad unwanted side effects that would make my mood swings pale in comparison.

The sage medical prescription he imparted to me was to "turn off the damn tube!"

Somebody please, help me. I need an intervention.

In the interim I will be sitting in front of my television set in the middle of the night, awaiting a "panacea product" that will address my current dilemma.

Rory Sadoff,

Massapequa