In their basement, the old couple has row upon row of metal shelves crammed with a menagerie of knick-knacks and do-dads, all rusting and gathering dust, sprouting cobweb condominiums within which reside dust bunnies and the occasional spiders or a cricket. Amongst these supposed "time savers" are treasures such as a personal food dehydrator, for the instances when one does not desire to remove the liquid from food items for anyone else save themselves. Other marvels of modern technology include the jar mashed potato maker, consisting of a jar with a screw-on lid and a spring powered pump that one merely depresses enough times to satisfactorily pulverize a potato. A jar to squish a spud.

All of these devices were gifted to the couple over their many years together, as wedding and engagement gifts, as Christmas presents no doubt grabbed off a shelf last-minute by a son or daughter-in-law, or as empty gestures to one another on birthdays, always given with the promise of being "time savers". With the promise to make life easier.

But the easiness of life doesn't come as effortlessly simple as the dish-washer safe plastic of the salad spinner bowl, or the stainless steel blades of the green egg slicer. Not for this old couple, who has worked for the better part of their sixty years together, rarely taking a vacation, never feeling truly wealthy. Though they're up to their painfully jointed elbows in dust-covered appliances and gadgets, true high society is rarely impressed by an "As Seen On TV" label whether affixed to a package, or to a person.

They tried to keep things the way they thought were right. They raised their two children. They owned a dog. Their son played baseball, their daughter danced. They went to Mass on Sundays and frowned upon the excesses of the media, all like they thought they should.

But life has had a funny way of grinding along like the gears in their Jack Lalanne juicer. And instead of a feeling of contentment and wholeness, this couple in their house, with a basement full of junk, feels watered down, lacking any substance. Thin, transparent, and evaporating. Like the spinach and carrot cocktail good old Jack promises will give you the energy to start your day. But some days it's easier to gather cobwebs of your own.