Purple

"I smell something purple."
I froze in the back seat of the blue, Oldsmobile, station wagon.
I was 8.
I loved Bubble-Yum chewing gum.
"Spit it out."

I knew better than to fuss,
but I really wanted my grape- flavored gum
and he really wanted it gone.

I suspect his skill in design extended to all of his senses and this smell was  unacceptable and I, his daughter had caused it, which made it even more unacceptable, as I, Bob's Daughter should have known better.

I did know better for his version of the world, but my version of the world, which he had encouraged me to examine, included a multitude of purple foods - and a Barbie Townhouse.

I loved Barbie. Bob generally accepted this, and he and Linda found me a brunette Barbie, as I am brunette and they were socially conscious about identity and dolls.

Then I requested a Barbie Townhouse and Bob could not put it together.
I remember all the pieces lined up in the living room, while I sat on the stairs waiting in anticipation.
The instructions folded out into a map.
I remember thinking that Bob would have preferred a booklet that didn't make him crawl around on the ground to read it.

"This thing is a piece of SHIT!"
"Bob, the children." Linda looked up at me...
"No, this is JUNK. It's going back!"
I begged him to try again.
"If a Harvard architect can't put it together -  it's junk."

My logic, which I held to myself,
was that since he was a Harvard architect - 
he should be able to put it together.

I was angry about that returned townhouse for...years.
I still glare at them in toy stores. Embarrassing, but true.

Order and functionality were important elements for Bob.
Perhaps this is why Intelius upsets me so much.
I expect better.
I was taught to value logical design
and Mylife.com's  poor design affects my life.

Perhaps this blog is my way of redesigning the information
provided by the Internet.
Maybe if I find it all, supplement it and put it together
in a manner that is consistent with my world view,
and perhaps Bob's world view, then it will stop bothering me so much.
It has to do with identity,
and I do not want the Internet making these decisions.
The search engines will always choose the Barbie Townhouse.
Bob deserves better.
And now, I know, as an adult,
that if the pieces don't fit and the directions are not clear, it's JUNK.
Bob taught me that.

Respectfully,
Bob's Daughter