“Just What The Hell Kind of Picture Is This, Anyway?”
So here’s the deal: this is a blog about being middle age. Or, more to the point, about being in your fifties.
That’s not right.
Here’s what it really is:
It’s a blog about me being in my fifties–52, to be exact. And my growing impatience with bullshit. (This, apparently, comes as part of the package with being this age.)
But, Steve, I’m not middle aged–why would I read your stupid blog?
Well, first off, congratulations to you–and my sympathies. You’ll likely die long after I will, but you will also have had to grow up with increasingly mediocre books, music, movies, and, well, just about everything. Consequently, you don’t know shit from Shinola.
Sorry. It’s true.
Me? Yeah, okay, I’ll be taking the dirt nap sooner than you, but I’ll also be taking some awesome shit to that grave, experiences that you’ve only heard about second hand or have only seen on TV or in the movies. (Look, here are a couple of nuggets: I’ve seen, in person, Muddy Waters, Elton John in his heyday, experienced Queen–with Freddie Mercury–three times, made out in a real drive-in movie theatre, hung out at CBGB’s–heck, I was in high school in the 1970s! Dazed and Confused? I lived that shit!)
Anyway… If you’re some youngster, someone in their thirties, let’s say, give it a shot. Who knows, you might find out that you don’t know everything after all. There might even be stuff here that you can actually relate to. (Hey, I’ve been all over this planet, done a lot of things in those 52 trips around the sun.)
Just a heads-up: viewer discretion should probably be advised. Coarse language, bruised feelings, regret… those sorts of thing are all par for the course here, so, you know, no training wheels allowed. You have been warned…
See you soon!