“The end is near!” screamed the street corner prophet as I put my quarters in the parking meter in front of my favorite Chinese restaurant. Then I’d better look busy, I thought to myself, remembering a funny bumper sticker.
Being a regular diner of Asian cuisine, most of the young waitresses kind of know me. The other day, I was talking with one of them about the NBA playoffs. “I like Kobe,” she told me.
I ordered the Hu Nan Chicken (all I ever get) and ate too fast as I talked with Fayetteville Fred on my cell phone. He asked me why I was eating so early (11:30) and who I was with. “All my friends,” I told him.
I paid my waitress, and she said, “See you later!” through a big grin. “Go Kobe,” I replied.
As I walked out of the restaurant I tore open the cookie and read my fortune, which said, “You laugh now, wait until you get home.” Everyone’s a comedian these days.
It reminded me of the call KM got that time from an Asian woman. It went something like this:
Phone rings at peaceful Edwards’ household.
KM: “Hello.”
Asian woman: “You know you husband!”
KM: “What?”
AW: “You husband! I have baby with him!”
KM: “Who is this?”
Click. Dial tone. (Edwards’ household not so peaceful anymore.)
Outside the restaurant, I looked for the street corner prophet to see if he could interpret the fortune for me, but he had moved on, so I walked to my car, thinking to myself that the day was cool for the middle of May.
The month of May (“that lusty month,” as Guinevere dubbed it) always reminds me of the smell of magnolias, and that I’m a year older – 58 this year, which isn’t that old, unless you’re in your twenties.
A year ago, when I turned 50, a friend sent me a list, and for some sick reason I saved it. It’s titled, “The Perks of Being Over 50.”
Chapter 1: The perks
There’s nothing left to learn the hard way.
You can live without sex but not without glasses.
You have a party, and your neighbors don’t even know it.
Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off.
Chapter 2: Games
Sag, you’re it.
Hide and go pee.
Kick the Bucket
Chapter 3: Signs of Wear
Old is when your sweetie says, “Let’s go upstairs and make whoopee,” and you say, “Pick one. I can’t do both.”
Old is when your friends compliment your new alligator shoes, and you’re barefoot.
Old is when you don’t care where your spouse goes as long as you don’t have to go along.
Old is when getting lucky means finding your car in the parking lot.
I ran across one other list that probably deserves another look during this time of graduations.
The world won’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself.
If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss; he doesn’t have tenure.
Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes, and listening to you talk about how cool you are. So, before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parents’ generation, try “delousing” the closet in your room.
Television is not real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist. Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com.
“T
he end is near!” screamed the street corner prophet as I put my quarters in the parking meter in front of my favorite Chinese restaurant. Then I’d better look busy, I thought to myself, remembering a funny bumper sticker.
Being a regular diner of Asian cuisine, most of the young waitresses kind of know me. The other day, I was talking with one of them about the NBA playoffs. “I like Kobe,” she told me.
I ordered the Hu Nan Chicken (all I ever get) and ate too fast as I talked with Fayetteville Fred on my cell phone. He asked me why I was eating so early (11:30) and who I was with. “All my friends,” I told him.
I paid my waitress, and she said, “See you later!” through a big grin. “Go Kobe,” I replied.
As I walked out of the restaurant I tore open the cookie and read my fortune, which said, “You laugh now, wait until you get home.” Everyone’s a comedian these days.
It reminded me of the call KM got that time from an Asian woman. It went something like this:
Phone rings at peaceful Edwards’ household.
KM: “Hello.”
Asian woman: “You know you husband!”
KM: “What?”
AW: “You husband! I have baby with him!”
KM: “Who is this?”
Click. Dial tone. (Edwards’ household not so peaceful anymore.)
Outside the restaurant, I looked for the street corner prophet to see if he could interpret the fortune for me, but he had moved on, so I walked to my car, thinking to myself that the day was cool for the middle of May.
The month of May (“that lusty month,” as Guinevere dubbed it) always reminds me of the smell of magnolias, and that I’m a year older – 58 this year, which isn’t that old, unless you’re in your twenties.
A year ago, when I turned 50, a friend sent me a list, and for some sick reason I saved it. It’s titled, “The Perks of Being Over 50.”
Chapter 1: The perks
There’s nothing left to learn the hard way.
You can live without sex but not without glasses.
You have a party, and your neighbors don’t even know it.
Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off.
Chapter 2: Games
Sag, you’re it.
Hide and go pee.
Kick the Bucket
Chapter 3: Signs of Wear
Old is when your sweetie says, “Let’s go upstairs and make whoopee,” and you say, “Pick one. I can’t do both.”
Old is when your friends compliment your new alligator shoes, and you’re barefoot.
Old is when you don’t care where your spouse goes as long as you don’t have to go along.
Old is when getting lucky means finding your car in the parking lot.
I ran across one other list that probably deserves another look during this time of graduations.
The world won’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself.
If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss; he doesn’t have tenure.
Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes, and listening to you talk about how cool you are. So, before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parents’ generation, try “delousing” the closet in your room.
Television is not real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist. Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com. v