I am not a good multi-tasker. I tend to be too focused and intent on completing just one thing at a time. Granted, that means that I sometimes have to make two trips, or even three, to the hardware store instead of broadening my attention, but I would rather be sure of getting at least one thing right than maybe screwing it up by getting more than I need or getting the wrong something. If that sounds like a rationalization for forgetfulness, I don't care. I'm comfortable being tuned into one task at a time.
I can also rationalize that multi-taskers are those who juggle too many balls at once, or spin too many plates on sticks to really appreciate the balls or plates. Those are the same people who insult you when talking to you on the phone and then putting you on hold while they answer the incoming call that their call waiting beep says is more important than you are. Habitual multi-taskers are the store clerks who brush you aside when you have your money in hand to answer the phone and then talk to the person on the phone while ringing up your sale. Rude. And let's not forget those who type on their keyboard whole trying to carry on a telephone conversation--you can hear the clicking in the background--only to give nonsensical comments and answers during your "conversation." I think that multi-taskers are those who do a lot of things with marginal competence, but do nothing really well. I can go on and on, but you get the idea. Multi-tasking isn't all it's cracked up to be.
So imagine my amazement when I found what I think is the ultimate multi-tasking gadget. Being a gadget, of course, means that it is an inanimate object and not held to the rules of multi-tasking humans. But this marvelous appliance does three things at once and, miraculously enough, does all three with precision and a simplistic beauty that raises the bar for all would-be multi-taskers, both human and inanimate. The fact that it resembles a medieval torture device that only the Marquise de Sade could like, is irrelevant. Its beauty lies in its utilitarianism.
Allow me to present to you the Apple Pealer-Corer-Slicer.
I found this incredible machine while browsing a kitchen supply store (so I'm a little strange--I like to browse in kitchen supply stores. I'm sure you have some secret foibles that you are reluctant to admit to, too.) I was looking for a simple apple corer to make the preparation of fruit for my new food dehydrater (look back a couple posts here in Bobology land) less bothersome and more efficient. When I spotted the box with this beauty inside, my heart raced, I broke out in a feverish tremble, and I think I might have gotten at least a semi-erection. It was love at first sight.
I couldn't wait to get home with my new best friend to assault an apple and cement our relationship. Taking it from its box, caressing it with a touch of careful awe and holy respect, I quickly scanned the instructions for its use and then consummated our newly formed partnership with a sacrifice of a Granny Smith. It was more than I dared expect. It was a demonstration of multi-tasking at its most ethereal. Heaven surely has a place at the Right Hand reserved for this most incredible invention.
I watched with respectful amazement as the apple peel was carved off in one long 1/4" wide unending strip of precise beauty, while the core of the apple was surgically removed and the meat of the fruit was sliced into an intricate slinky-like spiral. Oh, the rapture! Eating the resultant fruit, stripped, laid bare, and sliced to perfection was nearly orgasmic. I am in love once again.
I have a new-found respect for multi-tasking, but know that few, if any, can ever live up to the standard established by my new best friend. And while I may never personally reach the state of multi-tasking perfection demonstrated by this awe-inspiring gizmo, I can revel in the fact that I can witness that perfection anytime the need arises to reaffirm the possibility that such perfection is possible and actually exists.
Yeah, yeah, I know, get a life.