I MUST BE GETTING OLD

I MUST BE GETTING OLD

 

They say 60 is the new fifty.  Then fifty used to be fricking old.  I’m sixty-six and without looking in the mirror there are many signs that I am getting old:

 

I used to think about sex every 10 minutes; now I have to be reminded once a week.

I used to root for the Yankees as if my life depended on it; now I think, “Wouldn’t it be nice if the Orioles won for a change.” (I KNOW!)

I used to play and practice golf at every chance I had; now it’s “maybe tomorrow.”

I used to want a fast boat, a sports car, a big house, and a ton of money; now I think all of that would involve a lot of work.

I used to want to spend more time with my kids; now an hour with a grandchild will do.

I used to wake up raring to go; now, I wake up needing to go.

I used to think new stuff was really cool; now new stuff pisses me off.

I used to get all riled up over politics; now I figure it’s someone else’s problem.

I used to bowl a lot and I hated the 10 pin; OK that hasn’t changed.

I used to think 21 was young; now a young person is anyone under 45.

I think that Meryl Streep is hot; while Lindsey Lohan is a snot.

I used to invest based on potential for big gains; now high interest rates and big dividends get me excited.

Everywhere I go I see buildings that “Used to be” something else.

When they play “Oldies but Goodies” I’ve never heard of them.

The last thing that makes me positive that I am getting old is….ah…I’ll get back to you on that one.

THE TROUBLE WITH NEW STUFF

THE TROUBLE WITH NEW STUFF

 

Mrs. Cranky and I recently got some new stuff.  I love new stuff.  New stuff is always clean and undented.  New stuff smells good.  New stuff works the way old stuff used to work. 

The trouble with new stuff is now you have to worry about keeping it clean, undented, smelling good and working right.

Last month we bought a new car.  It is Mrs. Cranky’s car.  I am not allowed to drive it because I will adjust the seat and Mrs. C. will never get it back to where she likes it.  As a matter of fact it has been a month and she still is not happy with the seat.

“I liked the old seat better!”

“The old seat had 175,000 miles on it and was ready to crap out with the rest of the car.”

“The engine makes a funny noise when I step on the gas.”

“It’s called acceleration.”

“The other car didn’t make such a noise.”

“The other car had 28 cylinders and got 3 miles per gallon.”

“You’re a jerk!”

I go to sit in Mrs. C’s new car and there is a towel on the seat.  It was a grungy looking towel at that.  I moved the towel.

“Don’t move that, you need to sit on that to keep the seat clean.”

“What?  So to keep the seat clean I have to sit on a dirty towel that covers the seat and no one can even tell that the seat is clean?”

“I’ll know; oh and you’re a jerk!”

We just redid our kitchen.  The counters and sink are Corian.  We bought Corian as it is supposed to be durable and easy to maintain.

Mrs. Cranky is convinced that if water is left on the counter the minerals in the water will leach into the Corian and leave a stain.  I have to wipe down the counters if I even think about using them.  And then there is the sink.  Will water stain the sink?  Did I just have a sink installed that I cannot get wet?

I know…I’m a jerk.

Now Mrs. C. bought a rubber mat for the bottom of the sink.

“I don’t want to scratch the new sink.”

“But the rubber mat looks worse than a scratched sink.  And it blocks the drain so I can’t use the new disposal without moving the stupid mat which is a pain in the ass.”

“I don’t want to scratch the new sink.”

“Plus the mat smells like dog shit!”

“You’re a jerk!”

So we have a new car with an uncomfortable seat that makes a funny noise when you accelerate and needs an ugly towel to protect the uncomfortable seat; and we have a new kitchen counter that can’t get wet and a sink that needs to be protected by an ugly rubber mat that smells like dog shit.

That is the trouble with new stuff.

“You’re a jerk.”

And yet I still love her. 

AIR GUITAR

AIR GUITAR

Every douchebag rock star wannabe (myself included) has spent some mirror time acting like they could play guitar in a band.  It is such a common practice that it was given a name, playing “Air Guitar.”

At some point it became acceptable for these idiots to “play” air guitar in public (I draw the line at mirror time.)  Somewhere along the line some jerk-weeds even got credit for being good at Air Guitar. 

Did you know that there are actually “Air Guitar” contests?  Several weeks ago the seventeenth “Air Guitar” World Championships were held in Finland. 

Congratulations Justin "Nordic Thunder" Howard from the US, you are the best in the world at pretending you have any talent at playing a make believe musical instrument.  How many years have you fake practice playing a non-existent instrument Justin?  Did you take lessons or are you just a natural at pretending?  How much did it cost to fly to Finland to compete in a make believe talent? 

Maybe you could have spent the money actually learning how to do something for real!

I bet I could compete in some world championships: 

Where is this years “Fake Hitting the Crap out of a Golf Ball” world championship being held?

I know I could bowl 300 every time in “Air Bowling.”  Is there a world championship for this talent?

I’ll bet I could very convincingly run the billiard table all day long.  Where is this year’s “Air Billiards” being held?

I could do it all, “Air Piano,” “Air Skeet Shooting,” “Air Boxing,” “Air Drumming,” “Air Politics,” I could even fake read a non-book faster than anyone!  

Come on!  The only thing more pathetic than someone competing in “Air Guitar” is the people that watch and vote for the best asshole at acting like he has any talent or charisma.

Anyone involved in this sham is an “Air-head.”

Or is that a different contest involving “Air Sluts?”