With all due respect to current and former residents of the state of West Virginia, the remarks made in this essay do not represent a personal attack on your lovely state. If I were going to attack, I'd talk about missing teeth and kissing cousins and stuff like that. But I digress.
Yesterday on my ride home from work, I received a call from my father informing me that, among other things, he had finally removed the satellite dish from in between our houses. And when I say satellite dish, I mean one of those now-defunct Monstrosities from Circa 1983 that stood 40 feet high and looked like something off the Starship Enterprise.
This symbol of outdated technology currently serves as the West Virginia State Flower until they receive further notice regarding the latest cutting edge technology, such as we now have dial-up internet...and stuff. And when I say "they" I think I mean the state of West Virginia, but I also mean ME, who lives in the next state over; way over. And who is equally clueless with regards to technology, including digital cameras, instruction manuals, curling irons, coffee makers, and satellites, whether cutting-edge or defunct.
In the Era Before Cable, this Great Big Satellite Dish was all the rage. We were the first ones to have it. And the last ones to take it down.
While it is good to know I no longer have to worry about me, my husband, my parents or my children becoming ENSNARLED in the web that was that satellite monstrosity, I also must confess that there is a huge, gaping hole in the space between our houses now (read: ours and my parents') that requires filling.
Maybe we can bring ourselves into the next generation and put in one of those newfangled, rural food courts. Also known as a garden.