My fondness for gadgets goes way back—back to those innocent days of my childhood when anything that ran on electricity and had buttons qualified as a gadget. I must have been about five years old when, one Christmas, I asked my parents for an iron. I’d seen one in a toy catalog—but it was a real iron. It had a plug and it got hot and everything (though presumably the temperature was kept low enough that kids wouldn’t burn themselves). And, crucially, it had four buttons. I didn’t know what the buttons did and I didn’t care. But I knew that I wanted and needed four of them. When Christmas arrived, I excitedly tore open my presents, and there, sure enough, was my very own iron. But wait! What’s this? This iron has only three buttons! It’s the wrong iron! It’s all wrong! Christmas is ruined! I yelled and I cried and I tried, with little success, to explain to my parents between sobs that really that fourth button was the crucial ingredient, without which the gift was, sadly, worthless to me. It must have been the following year that I began typing my Christmas lists—complete with catalog numbers, so that there could be no mistakes.
As an adult—no doubt due to this traumatic experience—I’ve never been much for ironing. But I must admit, some of those new cordless, digital, titanium-clad irons do look mighty tempting. That, a small ironing board, a good pair of sneakers, and nerves of steel are all I’d need to participate in the latest sports craze: extreme ironing. [Article Continues…]