Welcome, world of web-logging.
I have finally entered the world of online publishing, slightly behind schedule. And when I say slightly, take that to mean monumentally. Fortunately, there are hereditary reasons why I wasn't the first person to pioneer the digital recounting of his mundane quotidien tales. My family has always been hesitant to step into the inviting yet unknown waters at the shallow end of the modern age.
For instance, my parents received their first microwave when I was in high school in the mid 90's. Note the active word there - received. By no means would they have gone out and paid the 100 dollars or so to buy one, it took a miraculous technophile to force it into our home. Ironically, this philanthropist was also host to the same parsimonious genetic material that led to our familial frugality - I call him Grandpa.
It's embarrassing when a 68 year old man has ventured further into the modern world than you have. After all, this was the 90s - I should have been knee deep in pagers, 2400 baud modems, and Hypercolor t-shirts.
And then there was cable TV. The other kids were watching Madonna get half-naked on MTV or learning about Chester B. Arthur on the History Channel while I was trying to squint through the broadcast static to figure out what Matlock was up to. The technique I developed was similar to that for those Magic Eye posters. Slowly let your eyes relax and cross until something pops out of nowhere. I imagine this is something like Zen spiritual enlightenment, without the half-lotus.
Finally, though, the day arrived. The magic white box found itself a spot near the sink and settled there slowly. With caution, I approached. At a time when most people already knew the pleasures of nuking their hot pockets and toaster pastries in mere seconds, I was filled with whimsical discovery.
Not long after, I realized why those households who did have one hardly seemed to care. Microwaved food is mushy. If you happen to leave it in there 10 seconds too long it becomes just the opposite, condensing into a flavorless rock. In both cases it is hardly edible.
I'm back to the toaster oven.