Quick and Easy Part 1

It's almost time for bed, and I was reflecting upon the meals I've consumed today.

For breakfast: a hamburger. (Yes, a burger, but I ate breakfast at 1:30PM.) I nuked a frozen beef patty for 65 seconds. I put it on a jumbo size bun. I sliced tomato and lay the slices on the patty. I sprinkled chopped onion on it, and lathered ketchup and mustard over it. After another 11 seconds in the microwave, the assemblage was ready to eat. It was warm and tasty. Best of all, it was quick and easy.

For lunch: a tossed salad. I began with a bag of chopped lettuce: romaine, green tango, and radicchio. Plus shredded carrot. (There was just enough carrot in the bag to make it legal to list it on the bag.) I drizzled olive oil and cider vinegar over it. It was tasty. Best of all, it was quick and easy.

For supper: a microwave dinner. I heated a tray of frozen spaghetti with meat sauce for 6½ minutes and sprinkled Parmesan cheese over it. It was warm and tasty. Best of all, it was quick and easy.

For a bedtime snack, I juiced a pound of carrots and a few ribs of celery. The juice was delicious! Afterward, I cleaned the juicer, which took a bit longer than drinking the juice, but I would still call it quick and easy.

You may detect a theme here. I love things that are quick and easy. And it makes me think of my grandmother. When I was a youngster, my family (Mom, Dad, and me) lived with my grandparents. This was Olden Days, of which today's young 'uns know nothing. My grandmother cooked a "real" supper (and it was called supper, doggone it.) She also cooked a meal for lunch, which was called dinner. And she cooked her meals on a cast-iron wood stove. Was it hard work? You bet. Building a fire in a cast-iron stove on a hot August day, so that your family can have a hot meal, was just a way of life. 

I mention this to draw a contrast between the way things are now and the way things used to be. No one in America has to build a fire in order to cook a hot meal. But there was a time when that was just the way things were. Believe it or not, there was a time before mobile phones—or any kind of phone. There was a time before television. There was a time before radio. There was a time before moving pictures. 

There was a time when houses had big front porches and everyone knew their neighbors. Not only knew their neighbors, but visited them and conversed with them. I have new neighbors across the street from my house and I don't know who they are. I don't know if they bought the house or are renting it. I don't know anything at all about them. Apart from idle curiosity, I have no need to know and I'm okay with that. Even so, it's a little sad to not know your neighbors. I know the man next door is Egyptian, and he speaks with such a thick accent that I cannot understand half his words. Still, we have the occasional conversation, though it's made of verbal fluff. 

I have neighbors, but I don't have connections. There are people living around me and I know little or nothing about them. It's reciprocal—they know little or nothing about me. This is 21st century America. No wonder there are so many angry people willing to fight over something as ephemeral as political winds. Donald Trump said he wanted to "make America great again," but I'm afraid that what really made America great is gone forever. What we have now is the new way of life—the manners, morals, attitudes, and principles—that took its place.

It's almost time for bed, and I will be there soon. I'm not sure what I'll eat tomorrow, but you can bet your life it will be quick and easy.