A new use for the internet

Many of us who are in our M&M years (between menopause and Medicare) tend to resist innovations. More likely we're baffled by them. That's why we have to find children to program our VCRs and unscramble our computer.

I recently stumbled across a technological advancement that is worth embracing — lovingly, with passion, remember passion?

Think fantasy sports teams. Sports enthusiasts put together teams they'd like to see playing, and go so far as to make up games and outcomes.

Makes sense. You've got the best of all teams, you control the plays, and it's all done in the air-conditioned comfort of your own home, most likely in your underwear.

Now mix in a little phone sex. From what I remember of the Clinton administration, he and Monica Lewinsky talked dirty to each other over the phone. It's not quite sinful, although it can get you into trouble. It depends on what the meaning of is is. Whatever.

So here's the deal. I stumbled across this when I was visiting a blog I occasionally log onto, and I think this is something M&M women will latch onto like fuzz on a cheap sweater.

Cyber food sex.

One blogger begins by inviting another to a virtual meal. "Come to my dining room for breakfast. We'll have rich, freshly ground, just-brewed, steaming Costa Rican coffee. Crisp, hot Belgian waffles, with juicy strawberry sauce laced with cinnamon and vanilla. Savor the maple-y goodness of crisp gourmet bacon."

Salivating yet? Breathing a little heavy maybe?

It gets better. Here's lunch: "Stop by chez moi, and I'll make you an omelet to die for — fresh, brown eggs whisked with a little cream, a little cracked black pepper, some chopped prociutto, succulent chopped green and red bell peppers, whipped into a soft frenzy and gently cooked until tender and lucious. Then some juicy, ripe, sweet melon slices, crusty, lusty Italian bread with sweet butter oozing as it melts..."

You get the picture.

Cyber food sex has definite advantages. There's no limit. You can indulge in an entire afternoon, or evening, in deep, rich, dark chocolate; light, lucious freshly-whipped cream; creamy, rich, decadent caramel — somebody stop me!

The only danger is sensory overload. There's no gristle in your steak because you have only the best cuts. The rice is never gluey and the lettuce never wilts. The tomatoes never have bad spots and they always taste like tomatoes should.

The oven always works, the microwave never explodes, and — best of all — there's never any cleanup, dirty dishes, or scorched pots.

You come away from the experience satisfied, looking forward to more, and you don't have to worry about your hips expanding.

So next time you see a woman of M&M age glued to her computer, a faraway look in her eye and a wistful smile on her face, you know what she's cooking up. And it's delicious!