I saw Peter and Gordon on tv the other night.
I was in the kitchen and I heard them introduced. I didn't see them until I got into the living room.
Wow, what a shock!
Gordon (or was it Peter?) looked like he was a hundred years old.
I know that they were famous while I was still in grade school, but still I just wasn't prepared for the devastation.
I am grateful, however, that he wasn't wearing a ponytail.
Nothing is more pathetic than an old hippie with a gray ponytail.
Face it, most young men don't look that good with hair parted in the middle and a ratty ponytail sitting limply on their neck. When they're 60, they look truly ridiculous.
So, guys, if you are still sporting the Woodstock look, do us all a favor, grow up, check out of the Hotel California, find a barber, and leave 1969 behind.
We love you, but the ponytail has got to go.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Why that name?
First of all, the name.
Well, I wanted to call it "One Foot in the Grave" but I did an internet search and there are quite a lot of things named "One Foot in the Grave." Go on, look for yourself, I'll wait.....
Too lazy? That's what I thought.
Apparently, there is a British comedy with that name. There is also an album by Beck and a book on Amazon by some writer I never heard of.
I don't enjoy letters from lawyers so I knew I had to think of something else.
But, Empress, what does it mean?
Well, I'll tell you.
It means I've turned 50 (51 actually) and let's face it, when you've turned 50, baby, death is staring you right in the face.
Oh, I know, Oprah says, "Fifty is the new thirty," but, she's a bizzilionaire, of course she feels that way!
Before you get all intervention on me, remember, I'm still smiling.
It's okay with me.
After all, there is only one alternative to growing old.
(Think about it.)
I find aging to be a rich reward, truly a treasure trove.
There is so much less to worry about.
Recently I got a bad sunburn and everyone was all, "Oh, no! Your skin! You could get cancer!"
I thought to myself, "Oh, what rubbish! I'm old! Nothing really bad is going to happen to me in the future, I am already living in that future that I worried so much about!"
I figure any bad thing that wants to get me better be moving fast, considering the rate I am hurtling toward the grave (but still smiling...'cause life is awesome).
Anyway, that explains the name.
Well, I wanted to call it "One Foot in the Grave" but I did an internet search and there are quite a lot of things named "One Foot in the Grave." Go on, look for yourself, I'll wait.....
Too lazy? That's what I thought.
Apparently, there is a British comedy with that name. There is also an album by Beck and a book on Amazon by some writer I never heard of.
I don't enjoy letters from lawyers so I knew I had to think of something else.
But, Empress, what does it mean?
Well, I'll tell you.
It means I've turned 50 (51 actually) and let's face it, when you've turned 50, baby, death is staring you right in the face.
Oh, I know, Oprah says, "Fifty is the new thirty," but, she's a bizzilionaire, of course she feels that way!
Before you get all intervention on me, remember, I'm still smiling.
It's okay with me.
After all, there is only one alternative to growing old.
(Think about it.)
I find aging to be a rich reward, truly a treasure trove.
There is so much less to worry about.
Recently I got a bad sunburn and everyone was all, "Oh, no! Your skin! You could get cancer!"
I thought to myself, "Oh, what rubbish! I'm old! Nothing really bad is going to happen to me in the future, I am already living in that future that I worried so much about!"
I figure any bad thing that wants to get me better be moving fast, considering the rate I am hurtling toward the grave (but still smiling...'cause life is awesome).
Anyway, that explains the name.
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