How Radiated Popcorn Changed the World

I was right as rain until I was at Ashley Weaver's house one summer's eve after a group of us had been to a show and someone produced a flat pouch of something called, "Microwave Popcorn." And then, after it was thrown into the newfangled device of the decade--that is, a Microwave Oven--I watched through the perforated-metal-reinforced glass door as this pouch swelled and popped (and then later smoked) until it was full of what amounted to instant popcorn! Albeit, somewhat charred...


Like a sucker, I had spent my young life huddled over a stove, heating oil, adding seeds, listening for that first *pop* then shaking for minutes until the moment before burning when the pan was lifted and dumped into a bowl. All the while I'd be shielding my eyes for those few hold-out kernels that would pop in the bowl and hurl themselves into my face...or worse...onto the floor. But here, in Ashley's house, surrounded by the smelly smoke of burned corn and oil, and the "Ooh's" and "Ah's" of us uninitiated, the sleeping giant of instant gratification was awakened in me.


And now, looking back, I think that's when the whole world, at least the giant country I live in, decided that later was too long to wait for anything--the end of civilized life as we know it came to a screeching halt when the corn lobby teamed up with the Amana Engineers to make us want it all, and want it now. By the way, the corn lobby has moved on to global domination, but that is another story.


Credit cards were the next thing for me. Sure, my mom knew how to play the "Layaway" game. Even I had dabbled in "pay now play later" for toys and such. But when I got my Belk's card, all that lame waiting for new shoes was over. All that fondling and coveting upright vacuum cleaners was a thing of the past. I could get what I wanted/needed immediately, but to make a long story short, think of the words "downward spiral"!


And that's where this country seemed to be pre-2008 and the collapse of the western economy. We were building houses with no money in the bank. We were buying houses with no money in the bank. We were refinancing those houses--many times to pay off huge credit card debts--with no money in the bank. It was all so much fun!


Cable TV brought music videos and movies into our homes, but now, that's not enough either! Now we want to watch what we want to watch when we damn well want to watch it! Then the TV cable brought us the internet as well because dial-up was such a slow waste of time that, given back all that time I wasted sitting there waiting for pages to load now, I'd be able to write a book.


These days of course, we want our internet everywhere we go. And true, sometimes seeing a weather radar (back to those microwaves!) at a ball game could literally save your life, but getting ball scores or watching episodes of The Kardashians in traffic is nothing but the popcorn-induced need for gratification. Wasn't it CK Lewis who made fun of people who crabbed about their WiFi in the Sky being so deathly slow on flights?


Wanting what you want now isn't at all a certified bad thing, but some things aren't meant to be had yesterday. Like courting a chick--scroll through your kids' text messages when they ain't looking if you want an education in the courtship of the modern, gotta have it now, teen or 'tween. 


Even elections are swayed by the "instant", sometimes holographically-enhanced coverage. We don't want to wake up and find out, we want to stay up blinking all night at the screen and watch our guy lose...or win. We ain't supposed to know until "the morning after", like Christmas. You'll get your bike when you get your bike.


Even retailers try to suck us in with "instant rebates"! Gone are the folding and mailing of receipts along with a carefully filled out questionnaire and our hopes of a monetary return months from the purchase date--if at all. I reckon merely lowering the price just ain't as appealing as something that we can have "instantly".


Anyway, it just seemed to me that the huge leaps and bounds in technology, which helped coax us all out of slow Southern Living started with that flat, expensive pouch full of Native American goodness. I mean, if one could stand around for two minutes and thirty seconds for a good wholegrain snack, then one shouldn't have to waste time on more complex things like the daily news or even a favorite fruit grown out of season from a continent far far away.


It was shortly after the popcorn introduction that Sony Walkmans put my favorite music in my head when and where I wanted it. Then the slow and awkward cassette tape gave way to the CD and the Discman, which gave way to the MP3 which, so far, is about as self-gratifying as music on the go can get! A whole record collection in your hip pocket--heady thought for us kids who grew up timing eight track tapes so we could hit the "track" button, thus changing tracks to hear that one favorite song over and over after tuning out the tunes we hated.


These days, just for fun, and personal salvation--seems microwave popcorn is chock full of things that'll kill you dead if you actually eat it--I set about ruining our "glass" cook top with that Mom-taught and age old practice of shaking them kernels in a pan. I wish I'd paid more attention to her technique when I were younger because I used to love the lid-lifting ending to her adventures in making enough for her, Dad, my Sister, me, the three dogs, and my first cat who thought chasing the popped-to-the-floor escapees was big fun!


What's even weirder to me is the fact that my kids don't know any different. They think Life is supposed to come screaming in on a cable or picked up at Wal Mart and sweep them off of their feet. Rarely do they get the gumption to enjoy the slower things in life, like a hot-ass summer day with absolutely nothing to do. Those were the days, when at their age, I'd hop on my bike and ride the sixteen mile round trip to try out that newfangled chicken place called BoJangles. Or ride to Sedgefield Stables to scoop poop for the aforementioned chicken money.


It's not their fault I suppose, seeing's how I let that cable worm its way into our home, and drag them to Wally World when I want a new toy for them or I, but rather than take the blame, I look to that smoky bag of ruined, yet quickly eaten, popcorn at The Weavers' house way back when. It was that spark that set us all on our way down that bustling, never-quite -quick-enough road to now.