It’s 2 a.m. and my fantasy baseball team just scored another point. Wow.
And they said there was nothing to do on the Internet; that it was the domain of porn freaks and losers. Hmph. Thanks to the wonderful worldwide web, I can fritter away a significant chunk of my life watching little simulated men run around. I can pretend to be the mayor of a coffee shop, and, best of all, I can now talk to my friends in simple 140 character bursts. It’s awesome: from chat rooms to videos of enraged McNugget Moms, and, of course, fantasy sports, I can totally isolate myself from reality, glaze over and do a pretty fair imitation of Howard Hughes. Can somebody pass the nail clips?

And to think it all started with grocery shopping. Sure, we were on AOL way back when it was useful to be on AOL. But for us it was a dalliance, a hobby, an occasional thing when there was nothing on the box. That all changed when I first heard about grocery shopping on the Internet. I wondered how they got the big stuff through the tiny little cable, at first.  I thought maybe apples, watermelons and canned goods spewed forth out of the printer. So imagine my surprise when I learned that they actually delivered the stuff. Still, I wasn’t sold. I had these visions of neighborhood kids riding home to tell their mothers about the poor people who had groceries delivered. “There, there, now Junior. We mustn’t make fun. The nice people at the shelter deliver food so they don’t starve. Now run along and tell your Dad to get the gun out.”

My wife had no such misgivings. Online grocery shopping was like a beacon of freedom shining just beyond her reach. Here was the opportunity to turn a hellish grind into a 30-minute pleasure cruise. It became her obsession, and she threw herself into convincing me of the benefits. She insisted that the cost was the same, and the delivery free–I thought she was delusional. I just knew that it would be more expensive–you know those shady Internet shops.

The truth was that I wondered if it was really necessary. Would it improve the quality of our lives? I had often wondered what took so long. Surely she dilly-dallied over the cheese-wiz section, or spent too much time contemplating coffees. A properly organized man could do the job in half the time–and save money, too! She smiled when she heard that. It was an evil smile, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck try to hide.

Okay, she said. If you really feel that way here’s the deal: I could do the grocery shopping, without her assistance. If I still felt that it was a worthwhile undertaking, I could do it all the time. If not, I would let her try the online thing. I should have known not to take the bet. But male pride demanded that I prove my righteousness. I would show her that grocery shopping was enjoyable–and she would thank me for not allowing such a delightful experience to leave her life.

And it really did start out that way. I found the carts with no trouble at all.
It was either aisle four or five when I began to lose my mind. I think that’s when I started muttering about hygiene; and I think I also made up a little song about toilet paper.
All I know is that I saw little kids laughing at me. Some even followed me around–I was like a crazed pied piper, leading evil midgets through the grocery forest.

To my credit, I finished the job–only four hours and $200 more than usual. And even though I insisted that my experience had been fruitful and pleasant–I pointed to the special limited edition snow cones as proof–and that I really did want to go again. Really.

Anyhow, our first delivery was a wonder. The delivery person was clean and smiling – he even wore little booties in order to protect or flooring – as if. And though eventually the quality of the food went down and the service began to rot, we stuck with it for as long as we could, and stayed loyal customers until the company went out of business.

From there it was a short jump to movies, tv shows, pizza orders, facebook and twitter. Now, my wife and I rarely even speak to one another – so intent are we at watching the messages and playing the games on our very own smartphones.

Dang. The Internet really is the best thing ever.

It truly is a wonderful thing.