“Since dignity is no longer a consideration for me here at Target, why don’t you give me two boxes of Preparation H, a liter of sex jelly, a box of Franzia Fruity Red Sangria, and that copy of The Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits on vinyl.”

My father texted me to let me know that my grandmother had been asking about how to access the opera that I wrote a few years back.  She is a former soprano, and she was very proud of me for having dipped my toe in those waters.  The problem is that it was a digital-only release, and my grandmother’s interest in technology peaked with the martini shaker.  

Do not infer any sort of judgment in that statement.  That’s fucking WISDOM right there.  But it does make things like texting and emailing impossible, so never mind file transfers and websites and shit.

And so it was that I found myself at my local Target, hunting for CD-Rs (after having done some digging around my closets and confirming my ability to actually BURN one).  

Why was this so embarrassing, you may be wondering?  For the same reason your 2001 Chevy Malibu is embarrassing.  Some things from the past just need to stay in the past and be ruled ineligible for nostalgia.

However…

…for Grandma?

Yep.