Sunday, October 17, 2004

Condiments, dorm refrigerators, Empire Earth, and the internet. . . .

My son is sitting at the computer beside me, playing "Empire Earth." That game has a good soundtrack. A lot of games these days have great music. No wonder there are cd's of them.

My daughter is sitting behind me, writing on her laptop. She's a writer. She's a very good writer. She and I discovered, just today, that our writing styles are almost identical. We are both feeling a mixture of horror and delight over that little discovery. Mostly delight. On my part, anyway. It's always cool to see a little of your own genetic material manifested in an offspring.

Need I mention that we are a very internet-ish family?

My husband is downstairs, grading papers and wishing we had more networked computers in our house.

In our garage, and indeed in almost every closet, is a wonderland of outdated stereo and computer equipment. Our house is the legendary "Obsolete Tech Graveyard" that people read about in books and magazines.

Pong? We have it. It still works.

That ancient TI, that used actual audio cassettes? We have that, too.

We are the stuff of Geek Legend.

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The refrigerator is now full of leftover pizza. This means I can put off going to the grocery store for a few more days.

With all those Pizza Hut boxes in there, there's no room for food anyway.

We've been married for almost thirty years. How come our 'fridge still looks like the 'fridge in a college dormitory?

We've grown up in so many other ways! Our 2 x 4 and concrete block bookshelves were replaced by actual furniture years ago. We are no longer embarassed to leave our geezer-meds out where people can see them. We own a sofa. Heck, we even own a hutch! I had a yard sale once! We hire someone to rotate the tires and change the oil and do our taxes! People use us as references! Our college loans are paid off!

But inside our refrigerator, the disguise is foiled. We are not adults, we are actually very, very old kids who own lots of condiments and a lot of Pizza Hut boxes.