Geritol, anyone?

For some reason, the aging process is at the forefront this morning.

Maybe it's because I watched the movie Wayne's World with my oldest daughter two days ago and had to explain what things like Laverne & Shirley were, or who Alice Cooper is, or even the fact that Bugs Bunny once dressed up in a girl-bunny costume in one episode.

Maybe it's because Michael Stipe turned 44 today. Maybe we should celebrate by being overly pensive and withdrawn, write some ambiguous lyrics for vague historical events, and dance with planned spastic tendencies. If I have to explain who he is and why we should celebrate that way, it only proves my point. The rock stars of my youth are now mid-forties.

Maybe it's because I read that Brittney Spears got married in a Vegas wedding chapel a couple of nights ago and instead of saying, "Man, what a great break for her childhood friend to be marrying such a rich babe," my first reaction was, "Man, what a confused kid. She isn't handling success too well."

I feel like mowing the yard today in black socks.