Don’t Teach the Old Man

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Wednesday post to let you know that we’ve hijacked Dad’s blog. We hate that we had to do it, but there are some things that need to be said.

Dad is old. This should be obvious and it probably is to everyone… except him.

It used to be okay because he worked and played around people his age. But now he has a few millennials in his office and they’ve been teaching him things. Bad things. He came home the other day and said we were “acting all boujee.” Did he use it in context? Yes. Should he ever use a word like boujee? No!

Someone is responsible for this and it has to stop.

Actually, it all started a few years ago when he heard Boom Boom Pow in a spin class. The fact that he was in a spin class is worrisome enough. More troubling is how many times he said we were, “so 2000 and late.” Seriously! He kept calling himself Mark I Am until we finally convinced him that the nickname was a play on the guy’s real name, William. After we caught him singing Apple Bottom Jeans we stole his iPod, wiped it, and changed the iTunes password so he couldn’t reload it. Desperate times…

But other things began happening:

  • He started wearing sleeveless shirts to the gym. We thought it was a phase, but day after day he was wearing something akin to a high-schooler’s bro-tank.
  • On a shopping trip to Old Navy, he wandered off and we caught him trying on skinny jeans. Skinny jeans! There he was, giggling at himself in the mirror. He knew it was wrong. But still, the man was in skinny jeans.
  • He downloaded Snapchat. Fortunately, he can’t figure it out and can only play with the filters, but still.

Now he’s decided that he’s woke and is using words like boujee. No, just no!

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You cannot teach the old man modern words. He is not responsible with words – he never has been. Every school report card he ever got has a comment in the behavior column that goes something like this, “Mark needs to think before he speaks.” Obviously, he never learned and needs guidance. Listen, someday (probably sooner than we think) we will be guiding him to the toilet. That’s not going to be your problem, it will be ours unless we can move far away. We’re just asking for a little help on the words issue.

You might be wondering why this is a big deal. The ramifications of his behavior are far-flung and harmful to our family as well as himself. If he won’t stay in the appropriate word zone, he starts feeling younger than he is. Not only does he embarrass himself and us, he feels chipper enough to do things old folks just shouldn’t do… like climb ladders. We found out what a disaster that can be last year when he ended up in the emergency room.

This is for his own good.

Right now he’s sitting in his chair trying to figure out why his password won’t open anything. 1234… Seriously? This is who you’re willing to trust with modern dialect? We will let him back into his electronics soon, we just need some assurances that you people won’t feed his delusions of youth. I think we can agree it isn’t good for him or society in general.

 

 

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A Whole Lot of Underwear

What is the genesis of underwear? When did this start? Sure, if you happen to be wearing a suit of armor, I understand the need of a layer of clothing to protect the skin from chaffing. But besides the knight, who needed it? And why is it considered a mandatory article of clothing today?

I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping lately and it is amazing the questions plague the mind at 2 am. Fortunately, I haven’t hit the Home Shopping Channel phase where mystery packages begin showing up at the door, but the history of my internet browser weaves a strange and remarkable story. While I can’t tell you when or why underwear came about, I can brief you as to why I got on a kick about it.

My credit card got stolen.

It’s happened to us all. Random charges appear on the bill or we get a phone call from the issuer. The last time it happened to me the trail was obvious – gas a mile from where it was stolen, a few biscuits at the drive-through window next door, and then a major charge attempt two miles north at Home Depot – who denied it. The thief made it about three miles testing the card before it became worthless.

In this case, the card got stolen digitally and I am guessing they didn’t have the super-secret three-digit code on the back. Rather than test the card with some minor purchases, this guy went for broke with a charge of $434.42 at Hanes.com. And after I dealt with customer service, I chuckled and wondered what that kind of purchase would be.

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I perused Hanes.com and it turns out that crook must have needed an entire undergarment makeover because you can get a whole lot of underwear for $434.42!

But then, since it is 2 am, the mind drifts into wondering all kinds of things about $434.42 worth of underwear. What would the shipping cost? Would that be assorted colors? What that might have gotten you 100 years ago?

So you find underwear advertisements throughout time like this:

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Or this (my wife is looking into BVD’s if they will improve my dance style)

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And what the heck are they selling here?

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You could even have helped the Army out and gotten 789 surplus drawers!

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Oh, the 70’s were such a confusing time.

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I didn’t prove anything, but got sleepy and went to bed. As I lay there, part of me felt sorry for the crook with the empty drawers drawer while mine is full. Tomorrow he would have to wake up and put on stretched out, saggy drawers that in no way would help him dance, wrestle, or pose jauntily. Poor dude.

But I know myself. And I know that I would give a fellow human in need the drawers off my backside. So I stopped feeling bad for him. Maybe if he asked, or better yet got a job instead of stealing my credit card, he too, could enjoy the freedom of a fresh, clean pair of drawers.