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Too Old to Die Young: Old Business

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  Old Business Old Business I've heard it said that middle age is ten years older than you. At some point, come on people, that no longer cuts it. We are our parents. The seniors. The next graduating class. I know that for some of us in The Me Generation this is a bitter pill to swallow.* Understandably. But, I'm here, in my humble way, to help. In  order to facilitate your transition to the senior years, may I offer some tips?  1) Gift Giving  Often, the older you get, the bigger your family gets. This frequently involves very lovely people, who insist on having birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and babies. Not to mention the regular holidays requiring acknowledgment: a lengthening list of cards and gifts, demanding constant calendar-ial vigilance. It's too much I tell you. So, two suggestions 1a) Money Gifts They take the place of soliciting requests; shopping; wrapping; shipping. Money always fits. No returns. Kids get to buy what they want and you've saved yours...

Picture (Im)perfect

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Picture (Im)perfect Anyone who's known me, even briefly, knows I have two unbreakable rules: Rule 1) No pictures. Not never. No. No. (Spanish) No. (Italian) Nay. Nyet. Nein. Non.  Fuggetaboutit. (Brooklyn) Bu shi zhe yang. (Mandarin) Rule 2) Never Ever break Rule 1 Paparazzi! Was I ever thus? some may wonder. For those who don't (wonder), skip the next couple of paragraphs to get to my ultimate humiliations, which we'll get to in a couple of paragraphs. Anyway, as a youngster, I don't recall having Rule 1. But apparently there were limited opportunities to call for it's enforcement. Family lore reveals that the 3,457 pix of my oldest brother were taken because, during the War, my mother lived with her sister who actually owned a camera. In the Post War (Post Camera) years picture taking took a dramatic decline, so there are fewer pictures of subsequent progeny.* Not to mislead, there's sufficient documentation of my childhood. And I, too young to know better, ha...
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  The Besties The Bestie Awards Once again we're into Awards Season. Although, it seems all seasons are  Awards ones. You got your Oscars. Your Grammys. Your Tonys. Your Country Music Association Awards. Your Primetime Emmys. Your Daytime Emmys. Your Post-Daytime Pre-Primetime Say 5:30 To 7:00ish Emmys. Your People's Choice Awards. Your Critics' Choice Awards. Your Critical People's Choice Awards: not to be confused with your Choice People's Critical Awards. Something for everyone. Almost. For those Awards junkies who just can't get enough of Awards stuff, I'm thinking  "What better time to present my very own Bests Of awards?" And Now..... Carol's Besties The Oscars   1) The "Honor just to be nominated" interviews.  2) The presenters' witty banter.  3 )The smiles of the not winners.* "You've chosen my fellow nominee. Excellent. I'm smiling really hard because IT'S AN HONOR JUST TO BE NOMINATED. And I know where y...

A Baby Boomer Reflects

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A Baby Boomer Reflects On A Life Of Sex, Drugs, And Rock And Roll Unfortunately it wasn't my life. If it was yours send details.*    The closest I ever got to that Life was, briefly, considering a trip "up the country" to Woodstock. Fortunately  for me, my friends, and 4000,000 others, we opted, instead, for a trip to White Castle. Narrowly escaping "Three Days of Peace and Music" which would have become "Three Days of Peace and Music and Whining"   "It's hot. It's raining. It's muddy. Porta Potties!!!!" None of these people are me. But feel free to check. Truthfully I don't regret missing out on the Defining Cultural Event 0f A Generation what with the rain/heat/mud/Porta Potties situation.  What's my point? Just to let you know that I have a long history of non-awesomeness. Update, I'm as not awesome now as I was then: couldn't be less cool. Nevertheless I do have things to discus. And, here's the good news. ...