It's true, we don't have cable, satellite or even one of those wire deals with aluminum foil on top of the television. Truth. We do own a TV, it's flat and you can put a piece of round plastic in it and a movie will appear.
It's true, we don't have texting on our phones. We did, now we don't. I want to spend time with my family. What I don't want is to sit in a room for hours and never have eye contact with someone because they are typing to a person who lives across the U.S., a person they've never met. I don't want that.
"Oh my God, we're almost Amish," Danae said when I informed her we were stopping the text message feature. Oh. No. You. Didn't. The Amish don't drive an H3. The Amish don't have cell phones or flat TVs. They don't shop at Banana Republic, then occasionally stop at Starbucks for a 1000 calorie beverage. They don't do this. Amish. Pfff.
I'm not 80 yet, but I do remember a time when we talked, face-to-face. We took walks together, climbed trees and ran through cornfields. The Amish do these things. So I tell Danae to climb a tree, run until she can't breathe and then turn around and do it again, and then tell me how it felt to have her heart pumping real blood. Afterwards, I'll churn some butter and knead the bread. We'll have Daddy chop some wood for the electric range and before dark, we'll sit together and watch a good flick until God turns off the power - just like the Amish almost do.
