It seems so long ago when Subway made the v-cut in your sandwich, your Big Mac came in the nifty styrofoam box, and Horoatio Sanz used to make Jimmy giggle like a glittering, glossed tween, no matter what the occasion.
But the future is now, and while it is exciting, it is already old:
I am so used to TV on DVD (and the internet) now. Same with people taking pictures with their cell, instead of waiting for the click of the shutter. I am practically blase about soup-to-go, celebs gone wild, orange cauliflower and purple potatoes, and pinkie size mp3 players.
And the incessant need for white people to use crunk and shizzle over and over again - it's tired, but I'm used to it.
The world of my youth has disappeared and made way for Baile Funk, Adam Brody and organic recycling. However, this doesn’t make me feel old. It renews me. I have to learn all over again and this is definitely how I want to spend the rest of my days.
So, it is with this outlook that I am going to tackle morsels, pork belly, Dreamweaver 8 and Syrah wine. Memorize all of the lyrics to Sean Paul’s “Temperature,” too.
And maybe get a small place in Buenos Aires…
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