a dedication to my microwave

When we purchased our new house, we ended up having to buy new appliances, for previous owners couldn’t part with their precious stainless steel toys. Which was good. We were picky about appliances too, and have selected rather fancy stuff (at least by our previous standards). And since we were so snobby about the big ticket items, we decided to go for a fancy microwave as well, to keep the “harmony” of the kitchen. We wanted something different from the old Wal-Mart variety. We wanted one with bells and whistles.

As we presented our demands to the sales person, she was so excited at the prospect of selling us a pricey item, that she almost convinced us to get a flying/cooking/cleaning/baby-sitting microwave. Tempted, but restrained by somewhat sensible budget, we decided to go middle of the road. We zeroed in on one with “built-in-sensors”. And a knockout stainless steel look.

It had an amazing range of buttons. My favorite was “Sensor-Cook”. Somehow, in my mind’s eye, I visualized pressing that one button and having a wonderful homemade meal pop out. I presume that in my husband’s mind’s eye there was a picture of me pressing that button too. And, of course, the sales person told us that that’s all the cooking effort we would need to exert.

However, upon setting up the precious purchase on the countertop of the aforementioned new house, I quickly realized that there was more to the button-pressing. I had to find an appropriate number on the dial. And I had to input appropriate weight of the meal in question. Not to mention that things had to be turned, spaced and poked…

Sadly, I realized, we’ve been duped. This microwave was just like all the others. The user friendly interface turned out to be as self-explanatory as programming a new VCR.

Disillusioned I dwelt in a state of cooking depression for days. Even unholy thoughts of returning the microwave back to the dealer have crossed my mind. And had I not been so lazy, I probably would have done it.

Then came the fateful night when we decided to rent a movie. But what is a movie without popcorn? Mentally preparing to have to sort through instructions in order to figure out the power level, time, and all the other variables of popcorn making, I reached for the popcorn package in the drawer. At that moment my eyes scanned the microwave dial, and noticed a button I have never paid attention to before.

There it was, loud and clear. The pinnacle of modern technology. A button that simply stated “Popcorn”.

Hardly breathing, terrified that my luck would run out I quickly stashed the package inside the microwave and pressed the button. That was it. No other actions were required. A few moments later the scrumptious smell of butter-popcorn filled the house. My faith in life has been restored.

And as I ate that popcorn I found myself having a bright vision of the future. Suddenly I knew, with unshakable certainty, that one day there will be a microwave with just one button -- “DINNER”.