and so it begins...

As young children, my brothers and I became absolutely obsessed with the
“Miracle Blade” and “Ron Popeil Food Dehydrator” infomercials.

Those suckers positively mesmerized my small, underdeveloped, 11 year old brain! I watched them over and over and over again, and fantasized about coming home from school to find my mom pulling hot, fresh, fruit leather (ew) from her shiny new Ronco Food Dehydrator. I seriously BEGGED her to get one! I really did, and she would. not. budge. This is because 1. She knew it was all just a bunch of infomercial-y C.R.A.P. and 2. She HATED being in the kitchen! Now, don’t get me wrong, she was an amazing nurturer. Ie: hot breakfast every morning, help with homework; a clean home, good dinners, and all the cold cereal we could ever dream of eating… But if I thought (even for one, teeny, tiny, miniscule, little second) that I was going to convince her to willingly sign up for additional kitchen slavery (with messy, pulpy, peel-y, fruity- fruit no less) I was sorely mistaken indeed. I even told her that it was the only thing I wanted for Christmas (I know that at this point you’re probably fairly certain that I’m joking…but alas, I am not.) and she STILL managed to get around getting one for me, though I cannot for the life of me remember how. Knowing my mom, she just filled my little lemming brain with big dreams of shoes, a new Barbie, PINK SCOOTERS, and school supplies. (Yeah, if you haven’t figured out that I’m a closet geek after I’ve told you about my 2 year stint with insomniac Star Trek viewership AND my deep and abiding love of Office Supplies…then you haven’t been paying very good attention.)

So anyway, my dream of eating fresh, delicious fruit leather (ew) that had been lovingly created by a June Cleaver-y mother in the relative comfort of my own home never came to pass. (I know, what a tortured childhood, right?) As for the Miracle Blade knives and those awe inspiring demonstrations that always left us wanting more… well, we never got any of those either, but the phrase “These babies can shave the eyelashes off a mosquito in the wee hours of the morning” still manages to make its way into the conversation at nearly every Blackwell family gathering to this very day. (Again, not kidding.)

Well, due to the fact that I was 8, 9, 10-ish when my infomercial craze began, I figured I would have about the same window of time with Kortland before Mr. Popeil and his super healthy snack making machine managed to sink their claws into him. Unfortunately, this is not the case. He is already running in to the kitchen (where I am always cooking lovely things, of course) and exclaiming:
“Mom, come see! I found a cool, cool thing we need to get!”
“Pancake puffs! ...But mom – it’s easy! You just pour and flip.”
“But mom, you can fill them with whipped cream and caramel!”
“But mom, they’re great for parties and stuff!”
“We just have to call that number right there and it’s just one easy payment of $19.99!”
(And if you think I’m making any of this up, or even elaborating a little bit, you obviously need to come and meet the Kortmeister for yourself.)

So, I guess the infomercial craze starts….NOW.
Dang it.
Sorry mom.
I have a feeling I’m going to be saying that
a lot. lot. lot. more in the years to come.