It's a Joy To Be Me

Groovin' at Blaine's wedding w/the bride...under a watchful eye, of course!

One of the absolute best things about getting older is that I am free to be myself without fear of sanction from too many corners. Not that I've been too awfully careful during my adult life, anyway (Coke incident!), but now it just doesn't matter. The thought that simplicity was best occurred to me today in a moment of endorphin-induced clarity as I finished my first run (well, jog, if you want to get technical) in more than six weeks. Thus, I decided that the rather mundane life I lead really is not so bad. For example, I could have been:

1. Hulk Hogan. Following his reality program, his son's incarceration and his wife's affair with a 19-year-old, Hogan now faces the embarrassment of having his net worth argued in the press. It's bad enough that he's only worth 32 million, but his wife, who stands to get a chunk of change, claims that the Hulkster (a larger version of the movie star Napoleon) isn't worth more than 26 million! Ouch...there's a blow to a guy's manhood, er, steroidhood.

2. Unemployed this year instead of in 1978. While that was a bad year for us (I spent a lot of time moping in bed, as I recall when not working as a night janitor at McDonald's or carrying toilets at the Kohler Company), being part of the 6% jobless rate disclosed today would be horrendous. It's good to be me today, especially when my sweetie continues to work full time!

3. Rep. Lynn Westmoreland of Georgia, who this week called Senator Obama and his wife "uppity" then claimed not to have know that was a racial slur. Let's see, he's from Georgia...he's lived there all his life...probably has heard of the Civil Rights movement...riiiiiiigggghhhht! Of course, the story probably won't get much play outside Atlanta, but it assures that I will never move to that state, or even visit (much like I still refuse to buy gas in Kewaunee).

4. Carlos Quentin who plays for the Chicago White Sox and involved in a pennant race as we speak. The potential MVP of the American League broke his wrist this week slamming his hand into his own bat following a foul ball. His frustration at not hitting the ball was probably not alleviated by attempting to kung fu the bat which obviously was at fault. Glad I don't have a temper like that...I'd be paralyzed by now.

5. My son Gio who fell in his basement this week and detached the quadriceps muscle from his knee and tore his patellar tendon: surgery on Monday and on the couch for 8-10 weeks. I am definitely not cleaning in the near future.

6. Joe Lieberman. Aaron Rogers. 'nuff said.

It's good to be me, and I will rest easy tonight knowing that I will wake up tomorrow as me (and not as a cockroach...a Kafkaesque reference).