My journey towards the dark side is complete. I now own a minivan in glossy piano black that looks like a shard of Darth Vader’s helmet. I have no qualms about driving this vehicle since it looks cool, drives like a cloud-mounted pillow, and has the features and refinement of a luxury jet. Really! Cars have come a long way since I first bought one back in the 19th century. No more steam engines, belching coal smoke, and wooden wheels, no sir! This Honda Odyssey has an onboard computer that can stream music and phone calls from your phone, download and store CDs onto its onboard memory, and open power doors with the click of a button. I’m sure in ten years these features will seem quaint and pathetic, like a car boasting of a rainproof cover and shift levers inside the driving compartment, but for now I’m hooked!
My second exciting purchase of the weekend was what has turned into the ultimate home cleanup tool: the Lysol disposable wipe. [eye twitches and nose begins to bleed] Sorry, just a little transition sickness. Now that my transformation to suburban dad with a minivan and cleaning products is complete, my subconscious hip self is still having trouble letting go. I won’t let it. I am a parent now, and soon will be cutting oranges into wedges for four-foot tall soccer players and will be desperately trying to video a school concert from the back row. Go ahead and laugh, but the transformation didn’t occur without some outside influence. Someone has been warping my mind, convincing me that the dark side is the RIGHT side. [cackling in the distance] “Good…GOOOOD!”