One day we will all be outdated.

I'm enjoying "Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir...of Sorts" by Ian Morgan Cron, more than I anticipated from the vague description of what it was about. In fact, without any sort of "more than", I would simply state that I am enjoying it. Glad it was offered as a complimentary bit of literature at the Wild Goose Festival.

Here's a wee tidbit that got me sniggering.

"It was Connor who introduced me to music. My grandmother bought him a record player for his nineteenth birthday. It was covered in mustard-colored vinyl and designed to look like a small suitcase. There was a latch on the top that allowed the turntable to fold down. The speakers on the sides could be detached from their hinges so you could strategically place them in the room to optimize your listening experience. It's easy to get snarky about how archaic this sounds, but if you think you're going to be hip forever, don't blink. One day your kids will find your old iPad and use it as a drink coaster."


p17