Thursday, May 25, 2006
day in the park
The kids were being extra cute today when we went to feed ducks and geese at the lake. Coco discovered “ploofing” pebbles in the water. And they held hands in the stroller on the way back as Coco was falling asleep. (Madge is reading Tintin.)
Unfortunately you have to be clandestine about feeding ducks and geese, nowadays.
I feel old when I write stuff like “nowadays.”
“In my day, sonny, we could feed a duck steak and nobody cared. Nowadays you gotta sneak around and feed them government approved alfalfa seedlings and vitamin supplements and fruit smoothies while the likes of you and me are eating discounted cans of dogfood…”
Yesterday I sent on my insight about iPods and their ability to change your surroundings. You have a semi-random soundtrack, after all. Hey, is this symbolic of something? You get to program what accompanies your travails, so the tone is set by your taste, yet the order and the way they shape your experience is random (as generated by the programmers at Mac). Hm. More on that later.
Anyway, I was making my observation about a song speeding me along, and I jokingly wrote the cliché, “I was passing people half my age.”
And I stopped short.
Because I realized this was entirely possible. Not that I would pass them, but that people half my age are independently jogging around parks. That’s a milestone, no? I’ve reached the age when geezer (in the U.S. sense, not the hip Brit sense) clichés begin to apply.