I don’t have a kid, yet I act as if I have a grandkid. I’m kind of like Robin Williams’ character in Jack, except Bill Cosby never went up in my treehouse to molest my friends. This makes me bitter…the mental age ordeal, not the molestation (or, lack thereof); as a result, my life grows less enjoyable each day, because too many things annoy me about this modern world: the fast pace, the reliance on technology, and the fact that there’s no respect for the young-elderly.
Although I’m physically in the best shape I’ve ever been, I find it hard to keep up with these crazy kids. It truly hurts my conscience to accept, but my nickname could very well be “Old Man Dan”. Here’s a short list of the contributing factors that lead to my feeble person.
Dan’s List of Old Age Setting In:
-I like things my way, such as my coffee, which I drink black. If I can’t have my coffee, I want the next best thing: McDonald’s…senior coffee. I no longer consider it lying about my age, plus I save like 50¢.
-I don’t care much for this modern hip-hopping, disco “music”.
-I enjoy (and prefer) listening to talk radio on my way to work.
-I have a methodical, slow approach to everything, because my way works. Always has, always will; no question about it. I’m also too stubborn to admit it if another way works better, which it wont.
-I went to my doctor for a strained hip muscle, where I later asked her if I was sexual enough for healthy activity; she took it as a pass, mainly because she wasn’t my doctor, but rather a gas station attendant; nor was “she” a “she”, but actually a “he”…and it turns out that “he” was not a “he”, either. I had been talking to a cardboard standup filled with Reese’s Fast Breaks.
-I’m experience signs of dementia.
-I wonder what happened to plain old candy, like the original Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that I enjoyed so much as a young whippersnapper.
-I enjoy bocce ball, a lot.
-I wear my pants around my waist.
-I curse at the youngsters who run through my yard.
-I plan my days around the three most important elderly functions: sleeping, shitting, and drinking prune juice.
My mental age, they say, makes me a stubborn ass that refuses to fit in with the ever-changing society in which I live. I say, they’re confusing age and wisdom; yes, I’m ahead of my years, but that makes me all the more learned. I don’t need these pretentious luxuries—toys on which the modern youth feeds, and relies. Cellular telephones and personal computers are the downfall of our society, and I refuse to take part! What is it with kids these days? Take me back to the past: before social media, before word processors, and before those confounded automated voice answering machines. Give me a horse, a tin of beans, and an open range—the life of a cowboy in one of those moving pictures—and I’ll be happy, free.
Nothing means anything in our present. Take a computer screen, for example: it’s simply a bunch of little images, run by the devil. There’s no real value; unlike a tool: a hammer. “Click, don’t touch,” they tell me. Well, I’ll tell you–SMASH! Anyway, I could go on forever talking about the days before the Computer Era, but that Human Era is gone–never to be seen again. I think these modern times are just too much for a withered, old-young man like me. I don’t know if I can go on…seriously, it’s past my bedtime. This is why Dan Ray sucks, and if you can’t let go of old times that will never again be, nor able to embrace the change that is/will constantly be upon us, then you suck, too.
Tips to suck less:
-Leave a comment.
-fb/tweet/just tell your friends, friends’ friends, random bums–I don’t care, just do it.
-Finally, act your age.