The Cheap Seats

Middle-Aged. Once again, as happened last February (see link ), my inclusion of this dreaded term in my blog description ( Musings of a Middle-Aged Man ) has raised a few hackles of another friend whose age is  the same general time zone as mine. Her playful dispute of membership in my age group - and the teasing discussion that followed - made me realize that, although the century is still relatively new, our quaint definitions of age are as outdated as the eight-track tape. New definitions are long overdue. Changes in parenting, the health and wellness revolution, our chronic cosmetic pursuit of the elusive Fountain of Youth - these and other equally valid reasons demand a reclassification of the simplistic terms Childhood , Adulthood , Middle-Aged and Elderly .  But before I make the attempt, a disclaimer. Any disparaging remarks I aim towards any age groups I once occupied are entirely self-accusatory and may not reflect your personal experience. And how often have I bee

I am a critic at heart. Always observing, often remarking. Like any self-respecting critic, some of my judgements are harsh, perhaps too harsh - even unfair. A knee-jerk reaction morphs into a scathing commentary, an impromptu rant. Short-lived, quickly exhausted, but words that can't be unsaid.   In my younger years, I didn't give much thought to such thoughts. They blurted their way out and drifted downstream to join other aimless comments. But now that these musings exist more often in my conscious world, I want to cash in, put my spewings to work. So, my next career practically chose itself: Television Critic.   In the past, great acting, solid storylines, good writing and high production values were primarily found in movie theatres. Not always, of course, but more often than television, with its self-imposed network censorship. Even in the early 60's TV couples still had his and hers beds, the 70's witnessed artificial turf for backyard lawns and was Ma

Back in the dear old 20th century there wasn't too much a person could lose or misplace. A hunt for glasses, car keys or wallet was an occasional, but consistent nuisance. Choice words were spoken, a 24 hour backtrace was performed and now and then keys and wallet were found in the most interesting places - in my hand or back pocket. But - most of the time - these three AWOL items were carelessly set down in random spots throughout the home. Naturally, when I needed them most, I was typically in a hurry, late for something or close to being overdrawn at the bank (more than one debit card has been needlessly cancelled as a result).   Fast forward to the present and the loss of these "antiques" seems almost quaint. Finally, after years of silly frustration, this old dog took the necessary steps to insure that keys are always on a hook in the kitchen, wallet is always in my glove box (smart, right?) and glasses are always next to the bed. Unfortunately, as soon as I ha

 I entered adulthood at the fringes of the Computer Age. I was 18 when I sat - anxiously - in front of a computer for the first time as a high school senior. Even throughout college, Smith-Corona and "whiteout" were more familiar to me than "backspace" and something called Microsoft Windows 1.0. During the late 80's and early 90's, my computer use was relegated to nothing more than word processing. Pretty slick, I thought.   Fast forward twenty years and we have made it through the introduction of the world wide web, online shopping, MySpace (adults skipped that one), to pods, pads and push notifications. Five months ago I did something I thought impossible only a year ago - I bought an iPad. "Boy am I going to be more efficient," I naively assumed. That didn't happen, but I sure like how fast I can link, connect, friend, tweet, make comments and like people, places and things. Nothing but a toy, but a purchase that has had no buyer'

As you might have guessed, I love words. Scratch that, I love some words. Other words (and phrases) - be they overused, overly trendy or just plain over - get under my skin and stay there like a bad rash. Not what a normal person gets irritated about, but . . . well, you fill in the rest.   I have no rational understanding of my fondness or dislike of certain words and phrases, any more than I understand why I don't put milk on my cereal (non-conformist, rebel without a cause, just plain weird - feel free to chime in). All I know is that some words are much more satisfying to say than others. We all have our favorites - here are a few of mine: 1. IDN'T IT - No, it's not a real phrase, but it should be. Idn't it is used in place of isn't it and always has a question mark following its use. Sometimes the question is hypothetical ("Pretty crazy that Lance Armstrong thought he would get away with it forever, idn't it ?"), other times not (&quo