Historical November–December 2020 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
I haven’t been doing much lately, except staying close to home. Two of the kids have moved along, but the 18 year old is still around here, somewhere.
I drive into work with my wife every morning, which is entertaining.
On the odd day I’m alone, I might drink a cup, and grab a smoke; it’s the most relaxing part of the day. Every other day, is the trailer for Mad Max: Fury Road; a post-apocalyptic, wagon ride, hurtling toward a parking space.
In the evening, we meet at our Netflix account, searching for a nugget in the stream. Sometimes, I feel zoomed out on humanity.
I YouTube guys climbing Mount Everest, then cross it off my bucket list. Next, I think I’ll shoot the curl in Waikiki.
We have a doorbell that lets you see who comes to the door. It’s amazing how little traffic we get. It’s either someone bringing mail, checking for mail, or, she forgot her key again.
I was startled when I saw someone ring the bell, drop a bag, and run away. Ding dong ditch in the age of DoorDash.
I watched the 18 year old emerge, and retrieve the bag. ‘What is that’?
I asked remotely. ‘I ordered McDonald’s’, she said, all virtual.
I hearkened back to my ding dong days, and thought, ‘Different times, but still, just a bag full of crap.’ Technology has sapped our energy.
If Necessity is the Mother of Invention, then Innovation must be her cousin Eddie.
In my day, I had to go to the drive-thru for some McLovin’. Now, you get the Hamburglar app, press a button, and a fast food felon shows up at the door, ‘Here! Take the food! Just don’t hurt me!’ I scolded the coddled youth, and said, ‘Next time, give me a heads up, and cop me a couple of McDoubles.’ Getting old isn’t what it used to be.
I have a vision of Grandma, sitting in a chair, knitting an afghan in her slip, rolled down stockings, sturdy shoes, and a charm bracelet, jangling with grandchildren silhouettes. She’s 60 years old, and looks like Mrs. Claus.
The scent of rose water, and sugar cookies wafts through her house.
I visited my parents recently. They’re both 85, and split their lockdown between Milwaukee and Naples. They’re what one would call snowbirds, or presently, jailbirds.
I called to see if I was still on the visitors list, and then headed north.
As I hobbled through the doorway to greet them, Dad sprang from his chair to steady my gait, while Mom came toward me, glammed up in Dior. ‘Danny, is it too early for wine’? ‘I have an app for that’, I said, as I settled into my arch supports.
I told them, ‘You guys look fantastic. How do you maintain your vitality’? Dad crossed his legs, brushed off his Cole Haan’s, and said, ‘It’s all about the shoes. Mother, have you checked the mail yet?’
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, November–December 2020.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times2020_11.pdf, printed page(s) 4; PDF page(s) 4.
