Archive for January, 2013


Tuesday, January 15th, 2013

About three years ago, a neighborhood Barnes and Noble superstore closed, replaced by a David Barton gym.  I know, I know.  We live in a society that covets hard bodies over developed brains.  No longer is it shameful to think that Leopold and Loeb was the prequel to “Kate and Leopold.”  In fact, your contemporaries might even tell you it’s on their Netflix cue.  Today, it is actually acceptable to be stupid.  Okay – I’m sure someone will write and tell me “stupid” is not politically correct. Really?  Too fucking bad, because maybe if stupid people knew they were stupid they would do something about it.  Perhaps  “stupid” isn’t quite the right word.  As long as you know computer stuff and Wii stuff and Judd Apatow stuff, as long as you use the word “game” as a verb, you can get by.  And the reason for that is that no one else in your demographic, thanks to most Baby Boomer parents, knows much either.  Yes, you went to M.I.T. and you can create apps and  write computer programs and  text/while you bike-ride/while listening to music/while drinking Smart Water, which, by the way, clearly isn’t helping you.  Don’t misunderstand me.  As someone who wants to projectile-vomit at the term “mixed fractions,” I am in awe of your mad tech skills.   But that doesn’t make you literate.   “So what?” you think.  “I have an IPad 9!  and Peter Jackson wallpaper on my laptop and  “I can name 17 artisanal cheeses, in age-descending order!” Well, those of us who know that “Silas Marner” is a novel and not a finalist on “Top Chef,” well – we still feel superior to you.

silas marner cover




The fact that you know the difference between a memory card and a greeting card doesn’t make you literate and certainly doesn’t make this a pleasant world for me to live in.  Are you stupid?  Here’s the thing – if you are, you probably don’t think you are.  But – just in case – some tips to make you less so.  Write them down so next time, you don’t have to ask Siri.



*  Grammar is not an opinion.  I don’t believe in G-d” or “I don’t believe in eating red meat,” are subjective decisions. “I don’t believe in commas” is neither a heroic nor a noble statement nor is it an acceptable explanation as to why your grammar is atrocious.  “YOUR STUPID IF YOU THINK I TOOK YOU’RE COAT.  ANYWAY, IT’S OVER THEIR, NEXT TO THE STATIONERY BIKE.  NOT HEAR – THEY’RE!”


If you see a quote on Facebook from Leo Tolstoy and you think, “Wow – that guy is deep

instead of “Wow – that guy is dead,” think again.


Syrup of Ipecac is not a good anecdote for anything.



Lady Brett is not Lady Gaga’s sister, missing graphic  image   and the fact that you can name more Sith Lords than Hemingway novels is something you should keep to yourself and your other stupid friends.  If Ernest Hemingway were alive today, you’d make him want to put a bullet through his head.  Again.



*  “R” is the 17th letter of the alphabet and “U” is the 21st .    Letters are not words.  Sorry – I meant, “letters R not words…”


* Which is funnier – that Carmello Anthony was named after a candy bar from the ‘80s or that his wife is named after a TeleTubby?”   If you’re thinking, “What’s so funny about that?”  then I am laughing at you.   So are Carmello and LaLa.  And TinkyWinky, Dipsy and Po.




Neville Chamberlain has not nor has ever been related to Wilt Chamberlain.



When someone mentions a book and you say, “Oh wow – I saw the movie,”  that’s the equivalent of, “I haven’t read a book since ‘Goosebumps.’”



The plural of “you” is not “yous.”



When asked which countries belonged to the Axis during World War II, “Sorry dude – wasn’t there” is not an acceptable answer.



If you use the word “supposebly,” please don’t be shocked when the literate among us suppose you are not one of us.  Supposebly.


An “axe” is an implement one might use to chop down a cherry tree.  Please don’t “aks” me a question and expect an answer.  You may expect an anserrr, but you’ll probably not indersndt it anyway.


When you talk to the characters in a film in a movie theatre, they can’t hear you.



You may think it’s so cool that there were also painters named Donatello and Michelangelo and Raphael and Leonardo. The Renaissance called.  It wants its paintings and sculptures back.


Tuesday, January 1st, 2013

It’s the New Year.  Exciting.  Zzzzzzz.  Not everyone makes resolutions and even fewer keep them.  It’s way too presumptuous of me to offer appropriate resolutions for everyone.  So I’ll just make some suggestions for my generation, people born between 1945 and 1964.  Yes – you former filthy hippies who now own homes that cost more than the G.P.A. of many developing nations, aka third world countries, which is what I really want to say but I am prohibited from doing so thanks to P.C. Nation… But, I digress…



I’m sure you have your own resolutions.  Here are some that you might not break and will also make you a more pleasant person to be around.



*   I will replace “I’m a Baby Boomer” or “I’m a Boomer” with “I am old.”  It’s less obnoxious and more accurate.

Blame Baby Boomers For the Economy


*   I will tell my children the real reason their mom and I got divorced – “I was kinda bored and you

know, I was turning 40 and I’m kinda used to getting what I want because I’m pretty selfish and my parents

raised me to think I was too good for anyone.  So even though it really fucked up your head and I’m the reason

you’ll always have abandonment issues, will be on an eternal quest to find a daddy figure to marry,

and/or will get divorced four times yourself, I had to be true to myself – can you dig it?  If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have

blended families and half-siblings and step-siblings and you could enjoy your own wedding instead of worrying, “How do I make

sure my mom and her new husband and my dad and his third wife don’t kill each other while I’m taking my vows?” and

“How many people can, logistically walk me down the aisle?”  And now that I’m on my third set of kids,  I think I may have

finally gotten this “Dad” thing down.  Cool — right?”

*   I will stop referring to Viet Nam as “Nam,” particularly because the closest I’ve ever been to Vietnam was Waikiki Beach, and I got my Master’s degree in Art History  just to stay the hell out of ‘Nam.’


*   Instead of “I’m a DeadHead,” I will just say, “I’m 71.”  Same thing.


* I will keep working out because it may help me to live longer, but will refrain from approaching the 23-year-old with the six-pack to ask, “Want me to spot ya?”


* I will not try to Facebook “friend” the 16-year-old girl I had a crush on at sleep-away camp because unless she moved from Hewlitt to Brigadoon, I will be very disappointed when I see her.


Group photo - Sydney Theatre Group members.



*   I will not take out my guitar at family gatherings and play “Leavin’ On a Jet Plane.”  I will not take out my guitar at family gatherings.  I will not take out my guitar.


*  I will stop wearing my 35-year-old threadbare Ivy League t-shirt because the only people who it will still impress are my parents.  And they’re dead.


*  I know my grandchildren are the smartest, most gorgeous, funniest most gifted children ever born.  I do not have to share that information or that Instagram with anyone.


*Ditto my children.


*  The very next time a hipster even insinuates that his generation is cooler than mine, while I secretly wish I could fit into his skinny jeans or her skanky cardigan from the thrift shop, I will say, “Hendrix, Dylan, the Beatles, or Animal Collective, Arctic Monkeys, M.I.A?”  Game over.

The Beatles  Abbey Road  



*No PDA.  Ever. Under any circumstances.

Toe-curling ... public displays of affection couldn't save Al and Tipper Gore's marriage.