The Mama has been holed up behind a sandbag barricade of technological resistance. Against a bombardment of begging, pleading, and threatening, she has held out for many months against the insurgents' demands for cable internet.
It isn't just the Mama's young gun sons who are campaigning for this radical change. The Mama's Security Council is strong-arming her to make this leap and liberate her phone line from the despotic grip of dial-up access in order to coordinate walks, swims, and lunches.
I feel like some Russian leader who has been exiled to his dacha for the winter so that the proletariat masses can seize the means of production and the decadent capitalist pigs' chat rooms.
I am letting go. I will struggle no more against the advance of technology. I will visualize Omar Sharif and Geraldine Chaplin in the frosted wonderland.
The Cable Guy will be here next Saturday morning. I'll be waving the white flag.
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