older and dumber
Monday, Aug. 30, 2004
So I recently broke up with a girl. Or she broke up with me. Or we counted to three and then broke up together. It was a very mature and good-natured parting, and I'm almost convinced we'll stay friends.
(I’ve finally mastered ending relationships! yippee?)
Now dating this girl was a different experience for me, in that she happens to be ten times smarter AND funnier than I am. Which was great because I could just sit back and enjoy the show. But I have to admit, it made me a little insecure about my role. I mean, if I wasn’t playing Clever Funny Guy, who was I?
Party Guy? Outdoorsy Man? The Spiritual Guide? Sexpot? Danger Boy?
No. Nope. Ha! Very doubtful. And I WISH!
I was left without a role, wondering what in the world this girl saw in me. And then predictably, inevitably, comically, whatever intelligence and humor I did possess started melting into the ether (see?! I'm pretty sure things can't "melt into ether." further proof of my new dumbnity).
There was really only one role left that I was qualified to play.
Harmless Boring Guy.
The good news? I nailed it!
Harmless Boring Guy also had a birthday recently. I’m thirty-six. Funny which birthdays bother people. Thirty and thirty-five were no big deals for me, but this one hurt. Why? Because I’m no longer in the 18-35 demographic. I am no longer attractive to marketers. MTV—shit, even VHI—no longer cares if I tune in or not. Only 60 Minutes. Maybe I should grow a garden so I can yell at the neighborhood kids to get off of it. Bah!
… election update …
Qualification #4: I write left-handed, bat right-handed, and bowl with both. In other words, I won’t play favorites.
Driving you toward the garage of prosperity,
Steve Anacker
Sergeant at Arms 2008
