Just Say No to Rugs

Now that I’m into my mid-forties, I am looking for ideas on what to do for my mid-life crisis that 20 years from now I can look back on and say, “Wow, was that ever a mid-life crisis!”  I’m talking crazy, dangerous things like juggling flaming machetes or switching to briefs.

One idea I’ve had is to get my iPhone out and use my Sprint service to get my Facebook friends together and go to Sears to purchase a bunch of Columbia tents, then pitch them in a public park while we survive on Starbucks and Kraft Mac’n’Cheese cooked over a Coleman stove in our soggy Levi’s and Patagonia rain coats in the hopes of getting ABC, NBC or CBS to cover us as we rail against evil corporations. But somebody’s already done that. Continue reading

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Happy Birthday to Me!

I had a birthday last week that put me over the top from forty-something to forty-something + 1 and entrenched me even more firmly into the despairing chasm that is middle age. Middle age is that time in life where you are at the half-way mark from birth to death and your focus transitions from things like wondering whether or not the chicks dig you to things like wondering whether or not you turned off the iron or whether or not you are getting enough dietary fiber.

I admit that I have of late been noticing such signs of aging: my menus are getting further away, my socks are getting darker, and the phrase “feeling your oats” has taken on a whole different meaning. Continue reading