You remember this thing, don't you? 
Ralph bequeathed it to me when his heart went ISE-yonder.
I took it in, because it was PRETTY (how many of us have been guilty of that?), and I loved the way the door latched shut with a *click!* even before you nudged the sliding lock lever.
But beneath that shiny exterior lay a lazy-assed thing that wanted to sit on the sofa all day, eat potato chips, order-in from Craigslist, and gripe that I didn't polish the no-wax floors to as high a luster as I used to.


Ralph bequeathed it to me when his heart went ISE-yonder.
I took it in, because it was PRETTY (how many of us have been guilty of that?), and I loved the way the door latched shut with a *click!* even before you nudged the sliding lock lever.
But beneath that shiny exterior lay a lazy-assed thing that wanted to sit on the sofa all day, eat potato chips, order-in from Craigslist, and gripe that I didn't polish the no-wax floors to as high a luster as I used to.
