Popcorn

My eleven-year-old neighbor was over to my house playing with the kids on one of those  cold, snowy days last week.  I was preparing to make popcorn as he stood by and watched.  He told me that he always eats microwave popcorn.  I smiled as I told him that I chose not to own a microwave and I like to make popcorn the “old fashioned” way.  He asked me if it’s microwave popcorn that I dump in the pan.  I looked at him in confusion and hesitantly said no.  He said he’s never seen popcorn any other way.  I gave him an incredulous look as I said that the popcorn comes in a plastic container.  Wow, I thought, the art of popping popcorn is disappearing.  Okay, I will educate this young mind much in the same way my father educated me. 

Many nights, during my childhood, my father popped popcorn…the old-fashioned way.  It always gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling to hear the popcorn pop and the shake of the pot as dad kept the kernals on even heat.  He dumped it in a yellow basin and we migrated to the living room to watch a t.v. show or talk about our day as we munched on the fresh, hot, salty popcorn.  Mmmm…good memories.

As for the neighbor kid, I did not regale him with my childhood story, but I took great pleasure in passing my knowledge down to this child.  I have hopes that he will carry the art with him and keep it alive.  Probably not, but I can hope.