*There ought to be a law: No leaf-blowing before 8 a.m.
* Truth in advertising, sort of. Ever find yourself reading a label of, say, yogurt and noting how it makes a big deal of having, say, “20% fewer calories”? And then, upon opening it, seeing that there is probably 20% less content?
* When you’ve reached a certain age–and you know it when you’ve reached it–you can feel like an alien in your own culture. Like when you wince when ultra loud movie trailers–featuring the latest comic book sequel or video game hybrid–commence. Or you keep noticing the use of “awesome” to describe the mundane. Or you haven’t watched an NBA game in decades. Or you don’t get the ambient allure of flat-screen TV sports and fine dining. Or that rappers can be icons. Or even seen “Game of Thrones.”
Now add this: Try belonging to a fitness club, those workout venues formerly known as “gyms.” Try being, on a given day, the only guy without tattoos, leotards, a man-bun, shorts that aren’t short, a backwards baseball cap or a playlist that seemingly cancels the outside world.
Speaking of a certain age, nothing like unsolicited mailings from the Neptune Society or a local funeral parlor offering a free meal over burial-needs chit chat to make your day.
* If you voted for Trump, whatever the rationale, I don’t like you. I wish I felt differently. But I can’t like those I don’t respect. And I don’t respect those who helped enable Trump to do this to our country. Sorry about that.
No, I’m not.