Wasted on the Way

 

I've been toying with the idea of starting up my blog again.

I stopped writing it in 2018 when I felt I had simply run out of ideas.  I was a little tired of writing about the fictionalized me - even though I like him a lot better than I like the real me - and I didn't seem to be able to hit the right notes to write modern day conceptual humor anymore.  

Simply put, millennials had taken over the hipper humor sites like McSweeneys and Slackjaw, and their humor is somewhat different than mine.  I like what they do but I just cannot match the comedic perceptions they seem to be able to so effortlessly toss off. 

Just take a look at the titles of a few of the posts on McSweeneys this morning: 

CAPTAIN AHAB’S THIRD HOUR PLAYING THE CLAW MACHINE AT DAVE & BUSTER’S

THIS SUMMER, I’M GONNA TOTALLY BANG EMILY DICKINSON 

I'M A FOUR YEAR OLD ON PREDNISONE, AND I'M ABOUT TO BENCH PRESS THIS POWER WHEELS

And me, folks, remember I grew up in an era when people thought Milton Berle wearing a dress was hilarious. 

Even though I think I wouldn't mind banging Emily Dickinson.

So I stopped writing humor and basically spent my time watching cable news and drooling over the numerous hot women reporting the news on CNN and MSNBC. 

OMG, look at Natasha Bertrand!

And me, folks, remember I grew up in an era when people thought the hottest babe on television news was Walter Cronkite.

But  some time has passed, and I have grown ever more acutely aware of some rather unpleasant realities:

There are so many things I didn't do, didn't say, didn't follow through on, and so on and so forth.  There's a lot more "didn'ts" than "dids."

You can't fix nothin' in the past.

Regret is a bitch. And in my case an army of bitches.

Yep, I am older now and there is so much time to make up everywhere I turn, time I have wasted on the way

So,  maybe I start writing again.  Ain't gonna cure any of the above but can't hurt.

But what about the name of this blog: Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute?

Actually I kind of dislike the name because it seems rather corny and overly cutesy to me these days and it sure isn't relevant for someone for whom 70 is in the rear view mirror and liver spots are their most distinguishing features.  But it's what I started with and I guess I'll keep it.

And maybe one day I'll write a post like:

 on bloomsday in 2023 i had an epiphany and now i'm living in the last chapter of james joyce's ulysses and all i can say is "yes i said yes i will yes!"

 

Nah, not millennial enough.

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