Uniquely 21st Century

Well, maybe not. I'm thinking of those folk who are cloaked in 'the beautiful' -- even when shopping. It's been cold, here, in the Northeastern United States. Oh, and as I've aged, I do wear a coat in the Winter and a hat pulled over my ears. When M and I moved to Philadelphia with our older kids in 1974 from a cold valley in the shadow of New Hampshire's Mt. Monadnock, coats seemed irrelevant ... and hats? who needed a hat? I had a full head of hair and a Thyroid Gland that kept my hair growing and my body-heater fired-up, all the time.

But Thyroids age with the rest of Last Quarter functions and hats and coats are the order of the day. And so the Old Guy walking in the Produce section has on a heavy woolen coat and a black beret pulled down over his chilly ears.

And there they are as big as life ... Burton and Buffy sniffing the organic cucumbers ... and sniffing in my direction, as well. OK, guys, it snowed 13" last night and I have visitors who come to my office beginning as early as 600 in the morning. I haven't been able to find anyone crazy enough to come and clean my walks at 500 and -- get a life -- SHOVEL does come before SHOWER in the dictionary." B & B still hog the aisles and look at me as if I needed to buy my veggies at the Soup Kitchen and 'Buck-up, Boy, and get yourself a proper hat or go back to Brooklyn or to some backwater town in New Hampshire!'

 Maybe if I was younger, it wouldn't get at me. I don't know Burton and Buffy but I have had a repeating experience since this Century began. I'm picking up a colleague ... Maybe going to a meeting. "C'mon in for a minute, I wanna show you something." It sounds safe enough with the homey language ... 'c'mon right on in.' Maybe they're 'gonna' show me something they're working on or offer me a beer. (Well, I don't drink beer or other alcohol, as it tends to get my heart out of it's normal rhythm ... But, still.)

No. It's just about always the kitchen. Refrigerators big enough to keep the in-laws fresh for their 80th anniversary party and enough burners on the cook-top to cater the affair in-house. The tiles are imported from Prague and the countertops passed through Tuscany on their way to the suburbs. The ovens, need I say, are big enough to roast an Ostrich and sufficiently convective to do so in 35 minutes. And sometime before we go to the the meeting with boxed chicken salad sandwiches, the figure $125,000 is snuck into the conversation.

 Need I add the most fascinating detail: it's possible that the kitchen has not yet been launched by use!