15 Megabytes of Fame

I MIGHT AS WELL BE THE ONE TO TELL YOU THIS:

I have little patience for figuring out how a package or bag of lettuce opens; I typically tear right into it, instead of taking a moment to access the opening options, and only realize after the fact, yes, right here, there is a nice perforated line or "tear here" arrow which would have made the opening of the package/box/lettuce much easier and much neater. Mon dieu!

If I'm getting a massage and the massage therapist happens to be applying too much pressure, I find it nearly impossible to tell her that it's too hard, even if I'm in a great deal of pain, as if this will really devastate her in some way, I mean really. In all other non-massage life situations, I have no problem being bold, even at the risk of being annoying/offensive. But for some reason, lying there, being slowly bruised, I can't seem to speak up, and I will formulate in my mind all the ways I might broach the subject for the duration of the massage. Frere Jacques, Frere Jacques, dormez vous?

I saw this old couple--attractive, well-groomed, but old, in their 80's-- sitting down at Starbucks the other afternoon. I couldn't help but stare at them; I was intrigued by their oldness, their presence, as old people, at Starbucks. I suddenly felt like it would be OK, journalistically, to go up to them and talk to them about their oldness. I would ask them if they look at each other and say, can you believe how old we are? We were once young, and now we are old. I imagined them naked. I wanted to ask them if coffee tasted any different once you got old, or if it was pretty much the same pleasure it had always been. There was a muffin on the table, I'm pretty sure, and he was reading the paper, and he was dressed up, wearing a jacket and tie as old(er) gentlemen often do. I imagined my husband old, and wondered if, even though he is not this way now, if he would wear a jacket and tie once he got really old, and I hoped not because I don't think I would find that attractive, I hoped he would still wear those cute big sweaters and long sleeve pull over shirts, particularly the one with the stripes that I like. Alors?

Thank you Chip Rowe for introducing me to Cathie Walker, Cathie Walker for bringing me on here, and Dave Slipp for tolerating those unbearably polite emails. Oooh la la.

Is 15 Megabytes of Fame a cartoon, a column, or a what?

YES, I AM WONDERING

NO, I AM NOT WONDERING. (SKIP AHEAD TO THE NEXT BAR SYMBOL)

Some people have called this a cartoon because it is handwriting. That's fine. I wish those people all the best life has to offer. Some people say, no, it's a column, look at all those words. That's fine too. Still others say "you got peanut butter on my chocolate." I suppose I would lean more towards the column description, except when I think of a column, I think of a fluid piece of writing with a distinct beginning, middle and tidy end. And in the past-- meaning "15 Megabytes of Fame" ran for two years on another website [hi DigitalCity readers!] and before that, its first incarnation was in print, in Might magazine, which no longer exists, but I assure you it was swell when it did (exist), and maybe if you and me ever became good friends I would loan you one of my issues--this column typically has had and I imagine will continue to have many disparate parts, you could take all of the segments, throw them up in the air, turn around real fast and clap your hands three times, catch the segments, reassemble them in any random way you like, and it would have no effect whatsoever on the content, or flow, or lack there of. So maybe this column is not a column-- it is a column minus the col, it is just an um - one big long um. C'est vrai.

Thank you to all DigitalCity readers, especially those who recently took the time to write amused.com: Renee Raab Whitcombe, Karen Pelto, Cally Egan, Matt Baron, Mary Oksutcik Kranz, Peter Van Bloem, Jennette Fulda and Christine Zimmerman. I really appreciate that. Bon appetit!

NEXT WEEK:

Join "15 Megabytes of Fame" for a cyber house warming party. There will be music by a great Chicago band (true), door prizes (again, true), and a special guest appearance by a special guest. Bring your friends (see the "Tell a Friend" icon in bottom left corner of column . . .see it?) Mais oui!

CLICK HERE TO SEE THIS ENTIRE COLUMN IN AMY'S HANDWRITING, WITHOUT A FRENCH EXPRESSION AT THE END OF EACH PARAGRAPH. A BIENTOT!