HELLO 21st CENTURY

Dear Spike:

The weather began to shift, this week. Now, I have to wear a sweatshirt when I walk you in the park in the mornings. It won't be long before I have to ditch my shorts for pants and my sandals for shoes. And it won't be long, after that, that I'll have to ditch my sweatshirt for a jacket.

The seasons change quickly in Salt Lake City. Spring and fall are but fleeting thoughts — quick and colorful pauses between summer and winter.

By Halloween, it will be snowing again. And it won't stop until next May.

I don't mourn the passing of our blistering summers. I do, in fact, enjoy them more than our arctic winters but I'm usually ready for a change by this time of year. But lately, I have grown particularly sad at the thought that our visits to the park will have to be more limited once the winter comes. No longer will I be able to walk you around the pond until you sleep, then relax on a bench, writing and checking email on the free wireless internet connection as you slumber.

At some point, it's just going to get too cold for that. And I'm not sure your mother would understand if she came home from work to a hypothermic daughter.

"Matt, why is Spike blue?"

Yeah, that would be bad.

But still, it was with a bit of regret, today, that I strapped you into your car seat and drove downtown to our local Internet service provider. I know I could have done it over the phone, but I really prefer to do business face to face. I guess I'm just old fashioned in that way.

Maybe I'm old fashioned in other ways, too. We don't have a home phone. We don't have a cable TV, or even an antenna for that matter (So I'm often lacking for anything to say when folks gather 'round the water cooler at work.) And we've never had the 'net at home (there was a period, a few months back, when we were able to jump onto our neighbor's wireless signal, but I suppose they wised up to our thievery.)

I tell people we're not "wired" because we like to keep our home life simple — but really it's because I'm cheap. And because your mother is tolerant of my cheapness, bless her heart.

But with the end of my month of full-time daddydom looming and the prospect of working from home seeming ever more complicated, I've finally and lamentably entered the 21st Century.

Hello, 21st Century. Thanks for waiting up.

Next week, I'm told, our phone line will get hooked up and a wireless modem will arrive in the mail. A few dozen swearwords later, I suspect, we'll be wired. I suppose there are a few better ways to spend $44.95 a month, but probably none more practical.

I suspect we'll be raising you to value a buck. And I know we'll want you to seek as many opportunities as possible to get out of the house and enjoy your community and your world. And to the extent that it is possible, I'll encourage you to combine those two things.

But when it's warm enough — and probably when it isn't — I'm certain you'll be able to find us at the park, you in your stroller, slumbering away in a snowsuit, me at my keyboard, tapping away in my mittens.

Love,
dad