Microwaves.
For the first time in my entire life, I don’t own a microwave.
My mother used to tell me about all the things she didn’t get to buy because she was saving up for a microwave in 1981. Freshly married. You need a proper kitchen for that. A microwave.
It was a box as tall as it was wide. Beige-gray, like a computer, with knobs instead of a keypad. I remember it. When I was 8 or so, we donated it to the local swim club’s lifeguard hut. They probably threw it away pretty immediately.
Many things used to be important.
