Slowly, but surely...

A long time ago, like 1998, there was a wholesome, respectable suburban housewife with strong tinges of intellectualism. Then, one day in April of said year, Poppy met me. Little by little, I have have ensnared her in my web. Sure, she may not listen to me and reply "Yes, Svengali" but I've gotten her to the point where she IS saying "Oh, why not, Svengali...I mean, really, what the Hell, right?"

Back when this wholesome example of hip and modern womanhood ran into me, she didn't have (or even care about, if you'll credit it) a home theatre. Hell, I don't even know if she had ever bothered to connect her VCR. Today she has a pretty sweet rig and dreams of redoing her basement with a big marquee reading "Bijou." At one point she was a sophisticated world traveler, seven years later she has visited Disney theme parks no less than 11 times.

And where once she had a Saturn in which electrical components dangled freely with precarious insouciance, she now has a sweet VeeDub AWD Passat "estate" and is loving life with burled walnut and leather every-damn-where and a car that actually changes its rate of progress when she applies her Belgian Loafer firmly to the long, skinny pedal on the right.

What's next? While the conventional wisdom says she'll soon be saying "Oh, fuck Apple!", my prediction will be that by 2009, she'll be arrested for civil disobedience, and the TV news will capture her ringing mezzo tones singing "We Shall Overcome" while linking arms with other Libertarians in front of the IRS building.


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