Aging with My Friends

A couple of years ago, I was sitting with my girlfriend Meg's husband on their basement floor while his daughters covered us with makeup and feather boas and placed big hats on our heads. I asked him, "If you had seen a vision of yourself like this when you were in college, do you think you would have had kids?" He responded, "Probably not. This can't look good."

I was thinking about appearances again last weekend while at my girlfriend Mary's cottage on Keuka Lake.

On Saturday, I just wanted to swim out to their floating trampoline and chill out in the sunshine but totally took up the challenge to coax another friend, Christine, into a "slow" tube ride behind the boat with us while agreeing with Mary's husband that, as soon as we were comfortable, he should go as fast as possible.

Really, at what age do people stop trying to mess with each others' heads? We've been friends since the late 60s/early 70s and nothing (yet everything) has changed.

I wondered if, at age 15, I had seen a future vision of ourselves in our mid-40s, with kids on the boat, screaming like we were still teenagers, would I have thought it looked funny?

I remember Mary telling me when we were around 20 years old that she couldn't wait until we got into the nursing home so we could eat Ho Hos all day long and play quarters whenever we wanted. Her premise was: Who cares if we get fat when we're 85? We may as well have fun.

Although the quarters part is no longer appealing, I think hanging out with my girlfriends when I'm 85 appeals to me even more today than it did when I was 20.

Oddly enough, just as I was writing this, I got a call from my friend Erin who said that her parents had moved to -- get this -- Surprise, Arizona. She said it was like Disneyworld for retirees. They are on the party circuit, going out for dinners, cruising around in golf carts, and having the time of their lives. Doesn't that sound like fun?

For now, I'll enjoy the weekends with my kids and my friends. In 40 years, who knows. Will it be quarters at dawn or golf?

Go! Team

I wore a Yankees cap sleeve t-shirt to church yesterday.

As I entered the sanctuary, the greeter handed me a pamphlet and jokingly stated, "We don't allow that shirt in here."

I responded, "Well, I'm not planning on taking it off."

His face turned bright red and he began stammering. Oh really, that's not what you meant? Oops. My mistake!

It's like shooting ducks in a barrel.

Dress for Finesse

I just came across the following bit of advice:

[Creative] Directors do not wear band shirts, ripped jeans and Chuck Taylors. If you are looking to move up in the industry, dress for where you want to be, not where you are.

I thought I would adopt the opposite philosophy for myself:

Management consultants should embrace band shirts, ripped jeans and Chuck Taylors. If you are looking to remember that you once had something that remotely passed for personality and yearn for those idyllic days, dress for where you want to be, not where you are.

Mea Culpa

I ordered a work-related book from Amazon on June 26. Since the dollar amount was so close to the "free shipping" minimum, I ordered another small book to qualify. When I looked at the estimated arrival date, it stated July 8. I immediately thought, "that's impossible." I could walk there by then. They must be setting low expectations and planning to exceed them . . . wrong.

Three days later, the "shipment has left seller facility and is in transit" (Warrendale PA)

Three more days later, "arrival scan" (Warrendale PA -- same town! Traveling by rickshaw?)

Three additional days later, "in transit" followed immediately by "undeliverable"

Whaaaaaaaaaat? I checked my order and, sure enough, I had my old zip code on the shipping address from our previous office which is, by the by, two feet up the road.

My question: Wouldn't it be cheaper for the USPS to do a simple zip code lookup and deliver it to my office than to ship it back to Amazon? I know I screwed up but come on. Aren't they the official keepers of all things zip code related? What the ?

If I were Amazon and shipping a gazillion packages through the U.S. Postal Service, I would demand better service. Now, according to an email from their customer service team, I will be getting a full refund for the returned book.

Good! Because I just ordered it from Barnes and Noble and it will be ready for pickup later this week.

Hey baby, it's the fourth of July

Er, well it was the fourth last weekend when the kids and I trekked to:

• The woods of South Sutton NH to visit my gorgeous girlfriend Anne and her picture perfect family
• Sweet little Lake Wicwas in Meredith NH to spend the day swimming with my fabulous brother and sister-in-law, cool niece and one of their favorite family friends
• The trails of Woodstock VT to go camping with AWESOME college friends including my beautiful dancer girlfriend Melissa from Brooklyn

After reassuring Son #2 that the bears in these parts were vegetarian, we all kicked back and relaxed.

Among the many festivities, we enjoyed (?) a pancake breakfast at the American Legion in Warren NH, went nuts with boxes and boxes of sparklers from the in-laws, relaxed by the bonfires, watched movies outside on a giant screen tacked to Bill’s barn, dined alfresco surrounded by tiki torches, enjoyed fresh mojitos and champagne, played croquet, hiked, swam in Silver Lake VT, shopped in Woodstock, and – best of all – just hung out with friends.

My friend Bill and his wife Elizabeth would make Martha Stewart proud. Their farmhouse is beautifully decorated, their meals (spicy shrimp, smoked ribs, fresh berries, oatmeal cookies) were better than the food served in the best restaurants (hence the boys’ moniker “delish kabobs”), their baby boy (Alistair) was just gorgeous, and – even though they have entertaining down to a science – there was no pressure whatsoever. The entire weekend was unbelievably low key. And Bill took the kids under his wing to play wiffle ball and later encouraged Son #1 to be his sous chef which made him beam (and buy a VT cookbook for himself the next day).

The two comments that sealed the weekend for me were:

Son #1: “I want to come back next weekend”

Son #2: “I don’t ever want to leave”

If only the drive wasn’t so painfully long!

OM Is Where the Heart Is

Son #1 enjoying the sunshine yesterday a.m.



He came home from VBS (i.e., vacation bible school) last night with a Bible verse from Matthew 19:26, "With God, all things are possible."

Son #1: Mama, do you believe that's true? Because I want to walk on water.

Sheesh! And I want to win the lottery!

The Superfluous N

My girlfriend Melinda snapped this photo for me a couple of years ago during an event for kids where they could climb on big trucks and heavy equipment.

This was printed on the side of a City of Rochester garbage truck. By "in progress," I think they meant spell check. I only wish I had a Sharpie with me that day (^n).

Proposed new City of Rochester tagline: We put the mental in enviromental. Oh gosh, is that politically incorrect? I'm aiming low once again. We put the "pain" in Campaign Eleven?

On an unrelated note, albeit to a lesser degree than the rapture, I'm definitely looking forward to "the renaissance" in two years. I like all things heralded by my trash hauler.