Ahhhhhhh. The first day of school. Apologizes to The Old Bag, but it will be nice to get back into the routine and away from all the phone calls regarding what people can have for breakfast, lunch, snack -- all the calls of people wanting to "tell on" their siblings.
So, I rode along with Curtis to his school and turned to head off to work when I caught up and passed another cyclist. I got stopped at the signal I love so well and he caught back up with me. "Man, what happened to your ankles?" I had a few seconds to explain the chiggers at the last campout and he was amazed that the bites would still be as prevalent as they are. Our light turned green and we headed out into traffic and chatted a little bit before I took a right turn and got back up to speed.
And now, from our "You know you're getting old when..." department:
Me: "I don't want to sound like a broken record, but..."
14 year-old: "What?!?!?"
Thus began a 5 minute explanation of the ancient technology of phonograph records. [Sigh]
6 comments:
Just tell them you don't want to sound like a RIAA-corrupted downloaded MP3.
Or better yet, you don't want to sound like a techno song. Oontz Oontz Oontz Oontz. I'm breaking out the glowsticks!
Good one. From now on, I'm going with this:
"I don't want to sound like I'm having problems buffering to my sound card, but..."
"I don't want to sound like a broken record" reads: "I don't want to brag about how I won the Tour De France 7 times in a row" (referring to breaking a consecutive TDF record).
What does a broken (world) record sound like?
I actually caught myself making the "broken record" comment to my children a few days ago. I stopped and said, "You guys probably don't even know what a broken record is, do you?" My son (age 11 now) made a smarmy comment about dinosaurs and stone-age technology.
If I was smart-alecky with my dad I would have been knocked clear into next week. Sheesh, kids today.
I got 67 chigger bites one weekend (yes, I counted). Went to bike ride expecting sympathy. Friend Ann, however, had found that amidst the benign ivy she'd cleared off her walls, was poison ivy, *and* a bees' nest. Discovered the most difficult way, of course.
I've been remiss -- missed this one until TWO months later.
I'll be glad when I'm outta classes and have a blog life again....
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