In clamicide news, law enforcement officials in the U.K. announced this week that they have solved the mysterious death of a seafood entree. Police had originally ruled the death of Ming, 507, a suicide after his body was found in … Continue reading →
Music can evoke powerful memories of the past. (Disclaimer: Music can also evoke powerful memories of the future if you are a time traveler.) As I was driving to work this morning, I heard the song December 1963 (Oh, What a Night) by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. As I was driving home, the radio was playing Prince’s 1999. Together, they got me thinking about music and time, and how some songs don’t age very well.
Oh, What a Night was released in 1975, so when it came out, it described the events of one yuletide night a dozen years earlier. Those same events are now 50 years in the past. If you are still reminiscing about one night half a century ago, you really have to ask what you’ve done with your life.
Sometimes the only thing that redeems the Internet is the bizarreness of the ads.
I happened to notice an ad on my Facebook page with the headline “60 Year Old Dad Looks 30!” The subheading says “Local dad erases wrinkles and upsets doctors! His secret exposed here! See what it is!” Accompanying the ad is a photo of a fingertip with some sort of pale yellow blob at the end.
I (of course) refuse to click on the ad, but here’s what I have deduced:
– The blob on his finger is some sort of secret face cream.
– Doctors hate young-looking people for some reason.
The only way I can reconcile the two statements above is if the secret of the face cream is that it’s made from freshly harvested doctor spleens.
(Disclaimer: This product is for men only. If it were for women, the headline would read “60 Year Old Mom Looks 23!”)
I had a very stressful conversation at work today. It didn’t start that way. In fact, I wasn’t even really part of it at first. But I got dragged in through the following exchange in the next cubicle:
Coworker: Something something gun control something Ted Nugent.
Young coworker: Who’s Ted Nugent?
Me (over cubicle wall): Stop being so young over there!
I am not sensitive about my age. I’m 51. I practice the Doctor McCoy philosophy on aging: “What’s so bad about not having died yet?” And my contemporaries are a very mixed bag. I am about 4 weeks younger than Barack Obama (who nobody calls old, in spite of the grey hair), 3 weeks older than Dan Marino (who has been called old since he was 33), and 4 weeks older than Heather Locklear (who I mention only because I’ve had a huge crush on Heather Locklear since Dan Marino was young). Continue reading →