I am afraid that the degree to which my writing will be taken seriously in the future is inversely proportional to the amount of text that I devote to the discussion of fruit pies, tortes, cakes, and other desserts.
By contrast, those pieces which dwell upon graveyards, tombs, crypts, and other habitats of the deceased will, I am sure, receive more respectful attention. The generations to come will not necessarily know about the dessert fashions of our era but will be as fully acquainted with the dwelling places of the dead as we are today, if not more so.
My essays on banana splits, apple strudle, peach cobbler, and strawberry cheesecake are, I fear, likely to be ridiculed by future generations, who will view them as the demented fantasies of a ravenous crackpot.
Yet I shall continue to write of these things, for it is my fervent hope that someone will see fit to preserve samples of today’s desserts, freeze-dried, in a time capsule; when the capsule opens sometime in the far future, my writing will serve as a guide to the proper appreciation of these delightful treats.