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  • Read The Directions…

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    …Even if you don’t follow them.

    A classic line from a classic bit of spoken word, that being Baz Lurhmann’s “Wear Sunscreen.” (To give credit where due, it was written by Chicago Trib Columnist Mary Schmich, actually, and performed by Lee Perry… Produced by Baz, so he tends to getĀ  all of the kudos…)

    Now that we’ve set that record straight, suffice it to say, the advice is sound. Of course, as the song also says, advice is a form of nostalgia. A way of fishing the past from the disposal, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

    Problem is, when the recycling center isn’t open, all you can do is lob it over the fence and wait to see if they send you a check. By that I mean, teenagers aren’t all that good at reading directions. Maybe some are, but I can only speak from my own experiences. Hey, even I will admit that as a teen I often experienced DADD – Drooling Attention Deficit Disorder – by the time I reached the third sentence in any given set of directions.

    It’s probably a hormonal thing, who knows… (Now that I’ve said that, someone with SDD – Satire Deficit Disorder – will be sure to explain it to me.)

    The thing about teens afflicted with DADD is that they will do stuff that you just can’t make up. And, in their defense, I’m more than willing to believe that the advances in technology have contributed to this problem.

    Case in point, my niece.

    Yes, the one who paid someone to stab a carpet needle through the side of her nose and then plug it with a bejeweled booger cork.

    Now, the incident in question occurred a few years before the age of Proboscis Piercing arrived, therefore I know it simply had to be a case of DADD, and not brains accidentally escaping through the third nostril. And, I will give her kudos for actually READING the directions. The problem is, she comes from a different time.

    Allow me to explain…

    It was Christmas as I recall. But then, I’m old, so maybe I don’t recall properly. What I can say for certain was that the family was all gathered at my mother & father-in-law’s house for some sort of all day celebration. Although we had consumed mass quantities of food at some point during this process, the niece was hungry again and wanted something different than the leftovers. In particular she wanted some manner of carb. My mother-in-law rummaged around and pointed her toward a bag of those frozen biscuit pucks.

    All good. A biscuit puck or two should certainly fit the bill where carbs are concerned.

    Niece read the directions and then set about puck preparation while the rest of us gathered around the table and talked about the various things that non-teenage folks talk about, which is to say, stuff that bores the living daylights out of the teenage folks. Yeah. Grown ups are mean like that.

    Four or five minutes into the conversation an odd smell began wafting over the half-wall from the kitchen and into the dining room. I looked up just in time to see the interior of the microwave burst into flames.

    Scrambling occurred, and I don’t mean eggs. In a matter of a few seconds the fire was extinguished before it could spread beyond the confines of the newfangled coffee re-heater. Once the crisis was over and the investigation into the origin of the fire began, we didn’t have to look far. There, smoldering in the center of the Pyrex turntable was a charred disc. Truth is, it looked far more like an actual puck at this point than a biscuit.

    As one cohesive unit, the entire forensic investigation team turned to the niece (daughter, granddaughter).

    “Wow…” she mumbled. “I wonder why it did that…”

    We were dumbfounded. “What do you mean you wonder why it did that?” one of us asked.

    She shrugged. “The directions said to cook it for ten minutes. It shouldn’t even be done yet.”

    The moral of the story? We need to bring back Home Ec in schools. If for no other reason than to teach these kids the difference between an REGULARĀ  oven, a TOASTER oven, and a MICROWAVE oven before they burn the planet to a cinder. (We’ll save Infra Red and Convection for the advanced class…)

    Just think, it could even count as a History credit…

    More to come…

    Murv

    • LOL! Love it. Reminds me of the first time my sister baked a cake. She followed the directions on the box of mix, parked it in the oven and joined us in the living room. Time went by as it tends to do and we finally noticed smoke coming out of the oven. My sister ran into the kitchen, retrieved the cake which was now a burnt, smoldering mess and commented that she didn’t understand why the toothpick never popped out. We all traded confused looks and asked for details. “Well, the box said that when the toothpick comes out clean it’s done. So I put it in the bottom of the pan and poured the batter over it but it never popped out.” Yes, that’s right. She expected the toothpick to just magically pop out like a turkey timer.

    • Murv:

      Ask Celeste why she has a new Microwave from us… Has something to do with Ramen Noodles…. a plastic bowl and no water……..

      Yeah Home Ec. I remember those classes.

    • Yep, the night I went to have coffee with Alexx for the first time, my son put a packet of ramen noodles in a bowl. And put it in the microwave for 4 minutes. the microwave I HAD would actually boil over a bowl of water in 2 and a half minutes. He forgot to put water in the bowl. (and did I mention, set it for FOUR MINUTES) When the timer went off, the fire was out, and his charred noodles were sitting in a puddle of plastic. And then he opened the microwave and the kitchen was filled with smoke. My new friend, Alexx, offered me a Microwave.

      I knew another teenager who read the directions as she was told to do. she then dumped all the ingredients into the brownie pan, and put them in the oven. well, all the salt was in one place…and all the baking powder was in a different place…the eggs were kind of poached in the middle…her Aunt was livid that she did not read the directions, as instructed. “I did!” she protested.

      In the car on the way to the store to get more baking ingredients, her Aunt told me how angry she was that the teen had not done as instructed, and lied and said she did. “She didnt lie,” I explained to my friend. “You told her to READ the instructions. You didnt tell her to FOLLOW them.” The Aunt was stunned.

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