Heya, sport! How’s my favorite grandson?

“Listen, I’m sorry your Christmas present is going to be a little late this year. I had a little screw-up with my America Online. Right, the computer machine, that’s what I meant. You can just blame it on your late Grandpa! No, not your Grandpa Baker; he’s dead, child. I meant me.

“But here, your father helped me print out this nice picture bulletin so you have something to unwrap. Well, unfold, anyway. Go on, boy, unfold it!

“See there? That’s a picture of the music computer I got you so you can listen to your computer phonographs. Your MGDs, or whatever you call ‘em.

“Yep, I heard on the TV how kids like that Square-Bob What’s-his-pants these days, so I got you one with his picture on it.

“You probably think this little critter is the bee’s knees, but can I tell you something? He’s a copycat! Back when I was a boy, we used to have a character in the funny pages called ‘the Yellow Kid,’ and he looked almost exactly like this Fudgeman Square-thing. Yep, I remember. He was an indistinct yellow blur, just like this feller on your music-ma-bob. Well, I s’pose there’s nothing new under the sun.

“Your pop explained to me that there’s electronic games on this contraption, too. So maybe you and Moonman Fatchance can play some jacks together, or ‘button, button, who’s got the button,’ or whatever it is you youngsters play nowadays.

“Just don’t let me hear about you taking him to school, alright? School is for learnin’, not fritterin’ with music machines. Understood? Good boy. Tell me, what grade are you in this year, son?

“Third year of medical school, eh? Well, that’s nice. Now hold on a minute, I do believe there’s a nickel in your ear!”

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