One day, when I'm an old, retired restaurant critic, as fat as a zeppelin and hobbled by gout, I'll throw the grandkids into the hovercar and take them on a tour of St. Louis pizza past. I'll show them the Mixed Martial Arts arena where the first Imo's once stood and the Francis Slay Spaceport atop the Hill. We'll pay our respects at the memorial to the victims of the Provel Riots of 2041, after President Chelsea Clinton banned processed cheese. And then, just when the little ankle biters start whining about how this is the most boring thing ever and I'm so hungry, I'll point the 'car toward the Albert Pujols Expressway and say, with an avuncular chuckle, "You kids are lucky to have been born in the 21st century."Check back here tomorrow to see what I think.
"Because we can live on the moon?"
"Because a clone can be elected president?"
"Because we cured cancer?"
"No, no, no." (I hope, by then, to have learned patience.) "Because you can get a decent pizza right here in your hometown."
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