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Hectic Lives Need Tasty Meals

Updated on October 7, 2019
kenneth avery profile image

Kenneth, born and raised in the South, resides in Hamilton, Alabama. He enjoys sharing his unique perspectives on life through his writing.


In The Year of 1950

American families thought that they had been reborn from the Horse and Buggy Days to the Space Age with space rockets and satellites blasting off to survey the ever-expanding borders of outer space. And for a while, we would sigh, then look at the electric stoves and TV and turn into creatures of awe and that was the way we lived for a few years.

In these so-called “modern days,” we never gave one thought of what new and faster machinery was being designed hidden from our sight and mute from our hearing. We just enjoyed the color TV’s, The slowly-changing from our AM to FM radio formats, and there were the Beatles, four young men who turned the world and its society upside down and feeling sick. If the likes of Chuck Berry, Bill Haley and The Comets and that rascal rocker, Buddy Holly evolved from Hillbilly Rock to Rock and Roll, then life as we knew it, evolved with it.

Clothing, cars, single-motor airplanes moving to jet airliners, and other mystifying machines that captivated our minds all but took-over our minds, but the one thing stayed in a constant design and that was the delicious foods that we loved to eat. I know that I did. And still do.

Oh sure we watched the happy changes that came with the chicken and burger restaurants and those coupons, man, we loved to use them. Do not forget the many styles and tastes of pizza. They are as many of these as there as chicken restaurants. Makes me wonder sometimes, what is going to happen when the poor little chickens are not born anymore. What then? And what will the nation’s economic minds do then?

It’s All a Relative Statement

when it comes to food. But oh, how amazed when we were when we were all introduced to the amazing invention of the microwave oven. I said ‘oven,’ but this marvelous device has NO oven. Just a slice of microwave designed into an orchestrated, working piece of tremendous uses and quality. It is now wonder that the microwaves of today carry a big owner’s guide to just understand how to turn the microwave on. I am not making a funny here, but just pointing-out how the microwave effected me in 1978, when my wife and I purchased our own microwave oven. No. I am not going to expose the brand of microwave that it was, but I can assure you that it was a very trusted piece of machinery.

Hold it! I almost forgot the “how” we, (my wife and I, and our daughter too) came to own our first microwave. If you don’t or do believe in Santa, he was the gift-giver or all gift-giver because he was the one who left it underneath our Christmas tree—and to be perfectly honest, I was far more excited to see the big red box wrapped in very pleasant, Christmas paper (and bow) than I was our daughter that Santa had left a new bicycle for her. I confess. It wasn’t about the gifts. Or the Christmas tree or the wrapping. But the various looks of love and warmth that our love showed for each other and although this scene was when we lived in a $60.00-a month shanty that we called home, because it was. Home and our love to be quite honest.

I can still remember like it was yesterday. My wife, daughter and myself tore open the huge box that contained the microwave. When we got to the bottom of the paper and clear plastic shipping material, we were all three stunned at the size of this valuable appliance. But when I perused over the owner’s manual, the only thing that was confusing was how to pop the bags of microwave popcorn that my wife had bought a week ago. When I was confused in the many settings, I was ready to freak. Then my wife, in her wise way of thinking, told me to push a certain button and tear the popcorn bag with both ends loose and put it in the microwave for no less than three minutes/

It was a family event. Our daughter, when she had stored her new bicycle away from my wife and me, she was ready to pop our first bag of microwave popcorn and help eat it with my wife and me. I was on edge as I watched the timer do its thing and count down as we heard that engine start to purr—and sure enough, in 2:53, we had our popcorn. And talk about tasty. I can remember just how wonderful that it was and even now, I can remember the taste and I remember it so well, that I am tempted to make known the real name of our popcorn, but things might be said to me and none of them nice as the words from HubPages editors would have me dead to rights. So the name of the popcorn will remain a secret.


Things That I Couldn’t Understand About The Microwave

but I sure wish that they were. For instance, the engineers of this microwave did not tell us about not to put certain glass containers with food to cook. Some with a bit larger dishes would sit there until the full amount of minutes were gone and the food was barely-cooked.

The buttons about what to cook, how long to cook things, and what the microwave could and could not cook and believe me. This was a trip. Instead of hotdogs, the factory of the microwave had “franks” on the button right in front of the other buttons and I tried for about half-hour trying to study each number combinations in order to cook myself a hot dog. Finally, our daughter picked up my hot dog and laid it on the wheel inside and with less than two-minutes, I was eating a tasty ho tdog. I thought seriously about writing this particular microwave factory but I chickened-out because I was afraid that the engineers would get into trouble and lose their jobs, and it dawned on me . . .was it really all that important whether or not “franks” and “hot dog” would ever cause our lives to end?

It didn’t. I have proof.

October 6, 2019___________________________________________________

© 2019 Kenneth Avery


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