Saturday, April 12, 2008

Rockin' it.

I saw my coffee shop guys yesterday. They were yuckin' it up again with their usual backwoods panache. They sat outside since it was finally a spring day here, so the whole posse was shrouded in Joe Camel fumes. Cancer perfume, as I like to call it. A few of the gents were sporting cowboy hats and sweatshirts that had random sayings like "Autism Run 1998" and "University of Smith & Wesson." Hardy har har har. Them guys are funny, I tell ya! I didn't stick around to hear their shards of wisdom since I prefer to keep my kids away from places that leave them smelling like the ashtray in my dad's Chevy Malibu from back in the day.

I know that secretly Mac Daddy would love to be like the coffee shop guys when he gets old. He dreams of being a toothless curmudgeon sitting his ass in a rocking chair all day long, commenting on all the nonsense that passes him by. He'd for sure have a toothpick to pick the strawberry seeds out of the last three teeth in his mouth. He'd have dentures, but they'd sit in an Efferdent bath all day because he won't be bothered to deal with gluing them in. Mac Daddy will see aging as license to say and do what he pleases. Hmmmmm....much like a preschooler.

As for me, I see myself aging gracefully a la Audrey Hepburn. I plan on staying fit (well, at least as fit as I am now, which is certainly far from gold, or bronze, medal shape) and being hip enough to be cool but not too hip as to be precociously annoying. I dream about having a fabulous commercial grade kitchen with a fireplace and Architecture Digest caliber outdoor entertaining space. I guess I'll be whipping up mashed osso bucco for Mac Daddy and all his toothless buddies.

What a pair we'll make. Yin and Yang. Oliver and Lisa. Beauty and the Beast.

Sure, I also dream about a gloriously happy family with no signs of dysfunction, gorgeous grandchildren, and sons who are gainfully employed by Johns Hopkins Hospital as a brotherly surgical team. No one wants to hear me wax about that crap. Of course we all wish for world peace, or at least family harmony. We all want our children to be smart, fulfilled, and rich (Yes, rich. No one dreams of having poor children. Someone's gotta fund our long-term care.).

All of us, regardless of social stature, wealth, education, geography, or upbringing share the same goals and hopes for our families. It goes without saying that the whole world wishes for the same blah blah blah that beauty pageant contestants are made of.

As for me, I just want that iconic Chanel jacket before I'm too hunched over to rock it and too blind to admire myself in it.
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