Maybe It's Just Me

As I get older I find that I’ve little interest or patience for the really deep, depressing movies like The Seventh Seal or Midnight Express, books such as The Gulag Archipelago or Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee or Guernica-esque paintings. No, nyet, nein, I’m not sinking my head, my brain into a Disney-esque fog -- I just don’t want to live/breathe/eat the horror of the human condition every moment of my waking life.

So, while I can appreciate the beautiful, gritty metaphors of Pan's Labyrinth and District 9 I’m thrilled to bits to escape into Cowboys and Aliens.

And I’ll take Martin Millar’s The Good Fairies of New York, Jonathan Lethem’s She Climbed Across the Table and Christopher Moore’s Lamb, thank you very much.

And sometimes, some days it’s really OK to just sink into the beauty of Monet’s Waterlines or Klimts’s Danae.
A little beauty, some laughter and a bit of weird science -- is that too much to ask?

Maybe it’s just me.

As I get older I find that my friends and I celebrate our birthdays for longer and longer periods of time. It’s not just a day, it’s a week-long anniversary jubilee and then, later, a month long carnival of cake.

Or is that just me?

Bob’s birthday is January 10th. Jen’s birthday is the 29th. Bob and I celebrate our anniversary on the 27th. This is all after the gingerbread and pumpkin pie filled holiday season.

I will, undoubtedly, die from a pastry overdose. Happily though.

Elatedly even.

As I get older I’ve less patient for idiots even the relatively harmless ones. I’m far more diplomatic but WAY less with the patience. Diplomacy--a skill I wish I’d had when I was younger....like last week even.

"Diplomacy is the art of saying "Nice doggie" until you can find a rock."
-- Will Rogers

Yeah, I can dig it.