Geriatric Dancing

This week hasn't been good for my self-esteem.

Three nights ago I took 3 teenage girls to a free pop punk show at a high school. I sat in a chair in the back the whole time and monitored every boy who yelled in the ears of the girls I was with. It made me realize that somewhere between graduating college and having kids I became a somewhat responsible adult.

I kept telling myself I could probably push my way to the front and start pumping my fist and throwing water bottles and fit right in, but I know the truth - my mere adult presence would cause some kids to start behaving themselves and cause others to throw water my way.

It was a church sponsored concert so there were a few other people sitting in chairs with me in the back. As much as I tried to avoid their eye contact, I kept finding myself exchanging knowing glances with them. We gave each other facial expressions that mean things like, "Loud enough for ya!?" and "Heh, heh...kids these days!"

Two days after that, Jack started pre-school. I was happy and excited for him - especially since he has a brand new Cars backpack - but I know if he's getting old, I'm getting old.

So then today, just as I'm starting to feel a little bit younger and cooler after a phone call from a friend about another friend who attempted to moon the first friend and ended up bunny-hopping 3 times and face-planting on the rain-soaked sidewalk, I go to the doctor and come back looking like this:

The whole time they were hooking it up all I could think about was Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable running on a treadmill in his doctor's office and coming home banned from eating desserts. Now I get to walk around for the next 24 hours while people wonder why I have a computer in a bag attached to my belt and wires coming out of my shirt. And I'm still not sure if I should feel better or worse about the nurse saying, "Oh good, we won't have to shave your chest!" when I took off my shirt.

dognabbers

and i told you no one would read it.

dagdangit, paul, i told you we'd never write on our blog.

gum

i have no respect for anyone that buys gum--chewing or bubble.

I hate it when old people are right.

In another victory for aging curmudgeons, Aquafina had to admit their bottled water was nothing but filtered tap water.

The fact that I've paid $1 or more for a bottle of filtered Mississippi water doesn't bother me as much as the fact that these cynical old people - so fond of phrases like "Bottled water!? Why would I pay for water when I can get it for free in the sink?" and "Pretty soon they'll be charging you to breathe!" - now have the satisfaction of knowing they were pretty much right.

I like it when old people feel good about themselves just as much as the next guy, but this bottled water thing is making a lot of people feel a little too smart. The middle-aged hippie lady at work who I privately ridiculed for refilling her water bottle in the sink now acts like she's some kind of sage.

Add to this problem all the know-it-all CamelBak wearers who now sip from their little straws all day like they're the most resourceful people on earth. I understand these things if you're on a bike ride or hiking through the desert, but when you're sitting in the library sipping from a bag of water attached to your back you just look a little ridiculous.

Go ahead and defend yourself with scientific studies about brain activity and colonic-health being related to proper hydration Mr. H2O backpack. And if you need any help refilling, Grandpa and I will be drinking from the hose.

What to Expect (When You're Expecting)

What to expect from this blog:

1. To read extremely deep thoughts from brothers who refuse to blog before 1 a.m.

2. To misunderstand our deepness

3. To realize we're the deepest thinkers you know (and ever will know)*

4. To doubt your own deepness after reading new blogs**

5. To get new subjects for your next deep conversation

6. To envy our deepness

7. To wonder why we don't get six-figure salaries for our deepness

8. To realize how hard it is for us to write on your not-quite-as-deep-as-our-level-of-deepness level

9. To be deeped***

10. Pictures of our increasingly rock-like abs.

Thanks for reading our very first blog! We look forward to the magic that will happen between us.

*Assuming Danny's children don't learn from his deepness and eventually become deeper.

**Unless you're delusional and don't realize the deepness has gone over your head.

***We'd like to thank Rhiannon Leifheit for inspiring us to blog. She's a fashionista. (http://www.liebemarlene.blogspot.com)