Look around your perfect home. There's something missing.
Yes, you have the cookbooks lined up in the kitchen like guards ready to go into messy battle. You have the crockery, the pans, the pots, and the Crock-Pots. You have the off-white sofa, the mahogany dining table, and the delightful silver candelabra.
The candles are as red as your eyes in the morning. Your wallpaper is just the right purple and made of just the right material to easily wipe away mousse and drool.
Your lifestyle is not complete, however. You don't have a drone.
Please, it's not I making you feel and fear your imperfections. It's Martha Stewart.
With an impassioned fervor normally reserved for unelected politicians and inebriated actuaries, Stewart took to Time magazine to declare: "In just a few minutes, I was hooked."
She needs no cure. Instead, she spends her days wondering "what Louis XIV could have accomplished at Versailles if he'd had one."
With a drone, you can soar physically as well as socially. You can be not merely holier than thou, but higher than thou. You can spy on your neighbors in a manner never previously imagined.
Those, naturally, are my own thoughts, not La Stewart's. No, for her "the drone allowed me to 'see' so much more of my surroundings than usual."
Before she would have needed a private plane, and those are so vieux chapeau these days.
Troublingly, in her buoyant enthusiasm she argues against herself. She cannot believe that Andre Le Notre, Louis XIV's landscape architect and gardener, created what he did without a drone -- or even a high hill to stand on.
"Yet he did, and with extreme precision, accuracy, and high style," she says. One can only conclude that Martha Stewart might believe that with a drone she will rival the great man's creativity.
Her Parrot AR Drone 2.0 may now have superseded the large circle cutter and the metallic ivory textured yarn as her greatest creative tool.
Next week, Gordon Ramsay explains why he flies a drone in his kitchen to drop a raw egg on chefs who make a mis-en-place mistake.