The first small television set, available in 1929, was housed in a cabinet and displayed a fuzzy photo the size of a postage stamp. A short time later the display grew to four inches. By the late 1990s, we watched television on wall-sized screens—some eight feet wide.

Soon we will be squinting to view shows on inch-wide screens again, as television shows are now viewed on "Smartphones"; and "Smartwatch" technology has down-sized to a postage size for podcasts.

 

In December 2024, I decided to get with the 'in-crowd' and ditch my trusty flip phone, which had a two-week battery life charge, in exchange for a phone and a watch advertised as "Smart". However, it seems that my version is a "Shadywatch". Readers of "Running With Knives" will understand why I have named the watch "Shady".

 

As was written in "Running With Knives" my compatibility with technology continues to confound and may become legendary. We all have an energy field that emits electricity. I've been told that my electromagnetism and my vibrations are close to an audible 20 Hz frequency. Indeed, people have either felt or heard me coming prior to my entrance. Although, here in this electronic instance, I blame the 'Shady Watch".

 

The 'watch' during sleep mode should detect the end of my sleep cycle. Ha! I've walked, shaken my arms, and activated the 'Activity' menu to count steps. 'Shady Watch' is still in Sleep mode. The watch does its own thing, including changing apps without any tap from my finger. There are also vibrations without any notification or change in the face. I've learned to ignore these spam vibrations.

 

A word or two on the hypnotizing effect of technology:
Prior to the unfortunate purchase of this toy, I wondered why so many people were walking about like zombies with their eyes focused on their wristwatch. Now I know.

The watch buzzes the tenth notification before noon. "What the heck is it notifying me about now?" I grumble out loud. After two days, the device has made me into a mad person.

 

Imagine the first phone call that came through: Withinn an hour of wearing the watch the 'Watch' buzzes. I am now "trained" to look. A phone icon is lit. What? My phone did not ring. This is Dick Tracy time. I answer the faux phone because the 'real' computerized phone is silent. The caller is barely audible. Annoyed and shaking my head, of course, I have no idea how to adjust the volume. Five minutes to check internet instruction, when I would rather be eating or doing anything else.  

 

I've tried to find and then follow online instructions for detailed steps on how to operate this 'Smart Watch'. Due to the unfortunate fact that a new updated version is sold each year, my version doesn't have instructions online as yet. The older instructions do not apply and are not compatible with newer technology. Instructions on turning off the phone displayed text for dialing Emergency Services!

 

This is an excessively expensive toy with over 40 apps and a minimal 10-hour battery life. Only five apps are really needed, but it is not possible to remove unused apps that use up battery life. The watch and the phone are modern appliances added to my list of "take too much time to learn how to operate". And of course, the inevitable wasted time on numerous taps to find a needed application.

 

Old is new again, but not in a better way. Dick Tracy did it better.

The following vignette occurred in the mid-1980s. Today, I was curious as to whether any restaurants offered dessert buffets. A recent quick internet search listed these possible replacement options:

• Fairmont Olympic Hotel in Seattle. WA, Centennial Afternoon Tea with limited mini-desserts
• R + M Dessert Bar in Seattle, WA
• Eagles Buffet-Casino Arizona in Scottsdale, AZ
• Spot Dessert Bar- four locations in New York City and one in Cherry Hill, NJ

No matter where you are located, if you would like to share your favorite dessert establishment, please use the comment menu below. We would love to know about sweet restaurants! Not a donut shop, please.

Update to the 'Let's Dine First" chapter:

Decadent Affairs

Delicious scrumptious dark, darkest chocolate, and visions of strawberries coated with melted chocolate entered my mind as I read an advertisement from the Seattle Sheraton Hotel featuring a dessert buffet. I was researching restaurants for a surprise birthday treat for my hunky beau. (Advancing foundation plans for a long-term relationship) No ordinary menu would do.
     Now I could practically feel the smooth texture of chocolate on my tongue as I imagined the coating cracking with the first bite, or perhaps a warmed softened chocolate exterior would open up more flavors and complement the seedy crunchy texture of a juicy strawberry.
     Drooling now, I dialed the hotel's phone number to make a reservation. An extreme buffet dessert selection would make and take the cake, so to speak.
Since we were both very active sports-wise I figured that the extra calories would do us no harm.
     "Where are we going for my birthday lunch?"
     "I want to surprise you with something a little different."
     "You know that I don't like surprises. Tell me where we are going," he insisted.
     I replied a bit more emphatically, "Sorry, but I will say no more until the big day."
***
Driving en route, a last-minute reveal, "We are having a sweet, festive dining experience at the Sheraton Hotel. Again, I will say no more until we are inside."
     We were greeted at the maitre d's stand. I opened with, "We have a reservation for the dessert buffet."
     The maitre d' expressed puzzlement bringing his chin down and scrunching his eyebrows together, "Oh, yes. We have it here. Table for two near the dessert buffet and windows." He then led us through the dining room.
     Joseph asked me, "What did you mean by dessert buffet?" As we passed the main attraction, my eyes opened wide and I pointed to the scrumptious spread.
     Tiramisu, cookies, chocolate decadence cake, assorted white cakes, chocolate eclairs and fruit tarts (two of my preferred); petit fours - one of Joseph's favorites -, creme brulee, strawberries Devonshire, and of course chocolate covered strawberries!
     The maitre d' seated us at a linen-covered table within steps of the dessert spread. "Would you care for any beverages?"
     I smiled at the maitre d', "Yes, please. Two champagne cocktails. The classic recipe with cognac."
     The waiter brought water glasses and a full luncheon menu.
     Joseph was not fully aware of and had not as yet bought into my plan. "Scallops will pair nicely with our champagne."
     Curious how much this surprise would cost me, I also scanned the menu. "I'm trying to find the dessert buffet section, but it is not listed." My eyes twinkled as I looked into his sky-blue eyes and thought, he will need those extra calories later.
     "You won't find it," he said, "There is no such thing. Hotels do not serve dessert alone. Dessert is an add-on course to a lunch, which we should order."
     "No! They advertised a Dessert Buffet and that is what I specifically made the reservation for."
     The waiter returned with our champagne and asked if we'd like to hear the specials.
     "We are having the Dessert Buffet only," as I handed the menus back to the waiter.
     He gave a questioning look, "Your selection of desserts is included in the price of a luncheon. Unless, of course, you would care for only one dessert, you may choose one from the table, or I can offer you a dessert menu."
     I was becoming impatient. "No. Thank you. We are interested in the buffet only. That will be our lunch."
     "Thank you," the waiter took the menus and trotted off. Near the kitchen, he had an animated conversation with who appeared to be the manager and the maitre d'.
     Joseph said, "See. I knew it. There is no such thing. Hotels do not serve dessert buffet alone, we will have to order lunch."
     The manager returned and declared that there was no problem and that they would be happy to accommodate us.
     At the buffet, we by-passed several jell-o bowls preferring to select the most decadent, rich desserts offered. Aa-a-h-h! Everything paired so well with the champagne.
     For the finale, we ordered an espresso each with a bite of a traditional lacy-fingered tiramisu.
     We were quite jittery and giddy after the sweet high, but I knew we would work off our sweet lunch...

"OK! Wake up!" I shoved my roommate's shoulder to rouse him from sleep at two in the morning. This was one of my wake up, can't sleep, get up and do something other than shopping in the middle of the night routine.

This morning, I decided to take action regarding our last week's discussion on body building and fitness. In our third decade of life, keeping in shape, working out and building stamina required increasingly more effort. This was the perfect time for a meditative run around Greenlake without bumping into the masses.

"What are you nuts? It is freezing outside! There's ice and two inches of snow out there."

I gleefully persuaded, "Yes! The temperature will be quite invigorating, and we will use more energy shedding calories and fat. Plus we will have the track to ourselves!"
I should speak for myself, as Tom had no fat. He was lean and muscular. But also a great sport and after a few tugs he got up and drove us to the lake.
Crystally snow crackled under our running shoes. The sky revealed twinkly stars on that crisp clear night and the air was so fresh without human interference.
After half an hour of jogging, we returned to the vehicle.

With a sheepish grin, Tom admitted, "That was a great wake-up run. But I still think you are crazy."

It was the best time to run. For some reason, unknown to me, on future opportunities when I actually went as far as attempting to kick him out of bed he refused to budge.

I want to rip my tongue out. Wash my mouth out with perfume and baking soda. Scrape it with sandpaper, because rinsing and brushing with baking soda alone barely helped. The odor and taste in my mouth seeping into my nostrils and lungs is wretching. Why oh why, did I do this to myself?

It is three in the morning and I am awake. Sleep should return. Instead, I lay there barely moving trying to not think about my oral cavities. Eating a two-day old dead shark would be better than this.
A thought creeps into my mind. An idea for a story. Now I have to get up and write before the ideas are forgotten.

Last evening's after dinner cocktail hour was a delightful experience. The cruise ship's bartender was attentive, offering and suggesting a variety of new cocktails of his own mixtures and tinctures. The elderly gentleman sitting to my left at the bar was smoking a cuban cigar exuding a pleasant and sensuous leather, spice, and leafy fragrance. We spent unclocked time to discuss our travels, and described our favorite cruise ships. The conversation turned to cigars as I recalled having smoked cigarillos in my early 20s and a short stint with chewing tobacco.
I was enticed to try a smoke again. The bartender offered a selection of thin cigars with a pairing of Madeira.
The combined flavors were...O-a-h-h! Soothing, delightful, creamy, sensuous. It was everything connecting my presence, body and soul with a soft flight, unearthly light feeling floating on cloud 9.
The evening was so enjoyable, before I realized the hours gone by, we ended the evening around one in the morning.
I should have left the last third of the smoke extinguish peacefully in the ashtray.
Recently I have learned that lower quality smokes will usually result in the bad after taste that I experienced. But to be safe, after smoking a cigar one should cleanse the palate with citrus, especially lemon to soften and reduce or elliminate any objectionable odors.

With that caveat the experience of pairing cigar and Madeira is worth a second try.