Over The Hill

As I type this, I am embarrassed to note that Lionel Richie is playing in the background on iTunes. That embarrassment will be short lived, though, my friends. Not because the song will come to its end momentarily. No, it is because when I awaken tomorrow I will officially be an old man, and old men may freely jam out to Lionel without a care in the world. I may no longer be able to navigate my way to that song if I accidentally accept the download of the latest version of iTunes, which will assuredly be a technological bridge too far for me. Should I encounter Say You, Say Me or Penny Lover, though, my 36 full years on this earth will entitle me to sweet enjoyment. Yes, my birthday is tomorrow. I shall bid farewell to year number 35 and begrudgingly usher in the back half of the thirties.

Today while waiting dutifully in line to purchase the 20 oz. Diet Mountain Dew required to power me through the afternoon, I was forced to listen to the abomination that is Lady Gaga on the radio behind the register. For just a moment I worried that my desire to shove my fist through the radio was a sign of my old man instincts kicking in, that I was officially out of touch with pop culture. But then it hit me- there's nothing wrong with being appalled by an "artist" for whom these are the suggested search results...


So I will look to moments of enlightenment such as that to offset the sinking feeling I get the next time I can't figure out how to operate an iPad.

Craig D'Arcy, age progressed to tomorrow morning.