Our new Thanksgiving tradition of racing to eat a fruit roll-up without using our hands
The last but hopefully not the least Man Blog of 2024! Another year is winding down, and I just got used to writing 2024 on my checks a month ago. If anyone in my graduating class felt like putting together a reunion this year, it would be twenty-six. Tina made me go to the twenty-year reunion. All those folks got old. Sometimes, I must step back and realize I have seen my share of seasons. I don't think like an old person. Some rude individuals may even say that my maturity stopped at age twelve. However, what I find humorous aligns with that of a twelve-year-old. I think farts are funny. I think accidental farts are even funnier. I laugh out loud just thinking the word shart. My best social media experience ever was our embarrassing fart contest. I will giggle randomly every single time I think of the time Upper Management was caught in the nude by HVAC Dave. Also, videos of guys getting hit in the "testicles" (because Upper Management doesn't allow me to use other, funnier terms) are always amusing.
This year's Christmas gift list from The Bean did make me feel old. It was a document zapped to everyone's smart device with links to desired items. Not just, here are the shoes I want. No, it was; here is the size, color, and lace color I want specifically. I do not think the list tells group members what has been purchased by other purchasers. I could only imagine the logic is that one of those tech-crippled old people will hit the wrong button and claim to have bought everything, which would lead to the rest of the herd going rogue, purchasing what they think would make appropriate gifts. I know everyone says it is the thought that counts. Not having to deal with returns is what counts. I am terrible at gift buying. I have been responsible for more gift returns than a Chinese recall. I wish I could match random items to people who would enjoy them. Tina and I complement each other well. She has the gift of knowing what the people she is close to would enjoy. Grambarb would get a cushioned toilet set every year if it wasn't for her.
I feel old missing the days of THE Sears catalog. I miss the magic marker that was saved just for the catalog. The marker has since been banned in 47 countries due to its toxic ingredients. The marker had to be scrubbed off with kerosene but never actually came off. It just smudged. I miss waiting for the mail to come for the excitement of being the first to get my hands on the catalog. Since my siblings were older, they were in high school when I was in grade school. Two important facts: their bus brought them home before me, and they would get the catalog before me if it came during the week. If you live in the middle of nowhere and there is a chance you will get snowed in, get more than a month's worth of birth control. Until now, I have always joked about the snowstorm of '79 causing my birth in October 1980, nine years after my sister's. I Googled it. Google makes me feel old and amazed that almost every answer to a question is at my fingertips. At the same time, I was young because I knew I shouldn't look into it, but I did.
Anyhow, Saturday was my day to care about getting the mail. Saturday was my day. I looked at every car that wasn't the milk truck going up our road. I was on mail duty like it was national security. Then, I would eventually get my hands on that giant glossy printed masterpiece by hook or by crook. I could circle THE BEST ideas ever and write little notes beside them. It upped the chances, but Santa wouldn't live at Sears waiting on another truck if they sold out. The Christmas magic of that feeling of maybe you will get what you asked for, and then again, perhaps not, is gone. Some of the best things in my life weren't what I wanted in the first place, but ended up better in the end.
Trying to share with The Bean what my generation thought was great makes me feel old. We went to see the new Beetlejuice movie. She sat through it like a trouper. It was bad. Not wanting to throw away the popcorn or risk spilling it in the car was the main reason I stayed to finish the movie. I had to explain that times were different then. We were entertained more easily. I started to rewatch the original but stopped. I wanted to remember it as good. Now, I wonder if it was. We watched the Mike Tyson fight. I felt like I had to warn her. Mike Tyson is more than likely going to knock this kid's head clear off. She doesn't understand who Mike Tyson is. A year from now, everyone will be talking about Iron Mike having one last hurrah and mopping the floor with the guy with two first names. Mike has seen some thunder himself. I felt more like giving him a hug than watching him fight. I felt old thinking, what kind of punk feels good about himself boxing a damn near sixty-year-old man.
I tried to explain the excitement of the Sears catalog. The fact that afterward, if you happened to get a .22 for Christmas, you could see how many pages the bullet could penetrate. The concept of having to wait without a countdown does not register. We primitives gauged the arrival of the Sears catalog by season, not the exact second we would get that catalog. The Christmas Story explains saving box tops better than I ever could—poor Ralphie, drinking Ovaltine to get a decoder ring. I still hate Cheerios thirty-plus years later, thanks to their Nerf Boomerang for the box top idea. Try not to sound like you grew up at the tail end of leaded gas, explaining that eating more grain than a draft horse to get a two-dollar Nerf boomerang in the mail was a great idea. Then try to explain 4-6 weeks shipping. Yes, there was a life without up-to-the-minute tracking on next-day deliveries. It is like me trying to understand steam engine maintenance to travel.
It has been a great 2024. It is another year that technically makes us older, but we are more on guard to stay young at heart. If you occasionally find yourself tapping your left toe to turn down your high beams while calling the opposing driver a buttface for leaving theirs on high, I am there with you. If you have the time, comment on what you miss that makes you feel old, and what you do that makes you feel young. We are all in it together and might as well have a good time. After all, you won't find better company than our soap family!
I wanted to share some of my favorite blogs, that Tina has written. (I am very proud of what she does.) As well as links to our bios. I didn't want to end 2024 with anyone missing out. Until next year, stay safe and wash on!
Tina In The Nude
Chubby Dog's Great Adventure
Tina AKA Upper Mangement
Eric AKA Me
Jordan AKA The Bean
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