Posts Tagged ‘age’

Fondly: Well-Aged Inapropos

March 19, 2014


“You’re the first grownup I’ve ever dated.”


I’m pretty sure she meant it as a compliment, but it merely made me feel old, and it made her seem really, really young.

When a woman dates a younger man, she is called a Cougar.

When a man does it, he’s a lecherous, creepy, dirty old man in the midst of a crisis of some sort.

Given that most women mature faster, and develop rational thought, that seems a bit unfair.

Given that I act like a 15-year-old in my thirties only proves a point of compatibility.


I’m sure when she told me that, she meant it as a compliment. I’m sure she meant she’d only dated boys until now—boys with fast food jobs, and a strange obsession with video games.

I had already caught myself starting a sentence with, “When I was your age” far too many times, as I searched for our level of equality.

But at her age, she was merely searching.

When I was her age…I was too.


So why did I expect her to be different?

I didn’t even know how old, or perhaps young, she was until well after it was too late. I didn’t ever even think to ask. When your soul finds something that feels right, age becomes inapropos.

So does a house, a wife, and pretty much everything else.



Plain White Shirt…

January 9, 2010


• In Oklahoma there’s an old, forgotten law that states dogs must have a permit signed by the mayor in order to congregate on private property in groups of three or more.

• In Texas it was once illegal to take more than three sips of beer at a time while standing.

• On average, 61,000 people are airborne over the US at any given hour.

• 70% of Americans have visited Disneyland/Disney World.

• A major league baseball has an average life span of 7 pitches.

• Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.

• The San Francisco Cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.

• The Main Library at Indiana University sinks over an inch every year because when it was built, engineers failed to take into account the weight of all the books that would occupy the building.

• Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history; Spades represent King David, Clubs are Alexander the Great, Hearts for Charlemagne, and Diamonds for Julius Caesar.

• “I am.” is the shortest complete sentence in the English language.

• The phrase “rule of thumb” is derived from and old English law which stated that you couldn’t beat your wife with anything wider than your thumb.

• Only one person in two billion will live to be 116 or older.

• The name “Wendy” was made up by J.M. Barrie for the book Peter Pan.

• The phrase “sleep tight” derives from the fact that early mattresses were filled with straw and held up with rope stretched across the bed frame. A tight sleep was a comfortable sleep.

• There are two credit cards for every person in the United States.

• A snail can sleep for 3 years.

• Bullet proof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers and laser printers were all invented by women.

*Why LNF? Why Plain White Shirt? Read Rorschach’s Ribs and all will be understood.

Age Before Beauty

March 24, 2008


When I was younger, I did a lot of things. Mine was a life full of rich, unusual stories.

Not unlike anyone else.

I lived abroad, and wore every hat imaginable. I walked across hot coals, spent a Christmas in Amsterdam and paid a small, possibly homeless child to electrocute me with a car battery while on a tequila binge in Mexico.

I sought out the strangest of miracles at every turn. I lived recklessly and in excess, and developed more fantastic memories and experiences than time allows mention.

Somewhere along the line, however, my memories have softened into Hallmark moments. My experiences are all work related; they’ve become little more than marketable skills–a job history on a resume.

It’s not unlike earning merit badges when I was a cub scout, though these days my merit badges are computer knowledge and job-related work history.

It’s got to be an age thing. Most of my friends are experiencing the same G-rated conversion in life, though most of them have done so due in no small part to that whole procreation thing. We used to drink till dawn and dine with the gods. Now, we go to brunch at kid-friendly restaurants.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that don’t get me wrong.

My point isn’t about making babies. We can burn that bridge some other time.

My point is that where I once howled at the moon, I now scream at traffic. Once I walked on fire, now I walk on eggshells. The occurrences in my life have become predictable and safe–normal.

And lord knows, I’m not a normal person.

There is very little chaotic beauty out there, brought about by a random series of events that time together to create those miracles.

I can’t remember the last time one of my stories ended with, “and then a one-armed midget pulled me out of the snow drift.” There’s no “random” hiding around any corners.

Or maybe I’m just not looking hard enough.