I want a playoff! Dammit, how else you gonna find out who the best team if we just, you know, all sit around at the end of the season and stare at each other’s asses like a bunch of Roman bathers? Let ‘em play. I’m tired of this.


ROAR! PLAYOFF!

I also want a simple phone bill. You used to just get a bill, and there was an amount, and you paid it to Ma Bell. Now there’s numbers, and more numbers, and a lot of the time it’s the same number all over the place. Just tell me what I owe! I make four phone calls a month! The rest I do by post, just like ya should if you really care. The wax seal tells them you mean what you’re saying. Mine’s a minotaur with a lion on its back. That’s how you know if it’s Joe.

I also wish men and women had more conventional roles, you know? I have to talk to mothers like they’re fathers, and fathers like they’re mothers, and to the kids like they’re men. In my world women worked at home, men wore short ties, and gay men worked retail or in the theater. I know I’m old, but it’s not too much to ask for when I want a gay guy to tell me if my shirt looks good. They know better than we do. It’s because of an extra gland they have in their neck.

You know what I like, though? Velcro. Everything just comes on and off now. I can put a pair of slacks on in three seconds now thanks to these custom slacks with velcro seams. Hey, I see that look on your face. That’s between me and Sue, though I’ll tell you: I’d probably tear a rotator cuff trying to pull a fancy exotic dancer move like that. I do everything slow these days.