I had one of those I-am-turning-into-my-dad moments over the weekend.
I bought some stamps so that Baby Momma could mail out the many thank-you cards due all of our very-generous friends. (Thanks for loading us with much needed baby accouterments!) I came home, pulled the stamps out of my wallet and said:
“Nine bucks. That’s what stamps are going for these days. Nine bucks.”
What’s worse is that I didn’t follow that very telling statement with a “D’oh!” or a facepalm. It was several long minutes later when I realized that I just pulled off a classic Granddad Orlando (GDO)—AKA my father—Price Complaint Maneuver. (PCM)
Now, as a public service, here are some other very low prices I remember:
- I remember when stamps cost 13¢ each
- I remember when putting a penny in a gum-ball machine actually bought you some gum.
- I remember when you could see a first-run movie on a Friday night for $3.50
- I remember when a visit to your family doctor cost $40.
- I remember when gas was 65¢ a gallon.
For the record, I am about to turn 44, not 64.
We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog post for a brief facepalm.
In other news…
As many of you have seen on my Facebook page, C- (section) Day is this Monday the 22nd. There still seems to be some confusion surrounding the actual time, so we’ll be arriving at the hospital at 5:30 AM, EDT. Or, perhaps, 7:30 AM. Maybe even 9:30 AM. Hopefully the hospital and the OB/GYN can reach some sort of agreement on this before Baby Momma actually goes into labor and renders the entire scheduling issue moot. (Or should that be “moo?”)
In Santa-killing news, I found out earlier this week that I will not need a pacemaker. I will, however, need to undergo a coronary angiogram late the week after next as my symptoms still seem to indicate that there is some kind of blockage in my heart. With everything that is going on at the moment, it’s really not fazing me very much. I have bigger fish to fry broil in a beurre blanc sauce with a white wine reduction.
A few nights ago, Baby Momma and I were in the car enjoying that ubiquitous pop-culture sensation, Gangnam Style. The whole to-do surrounding this phenomenon has brought back to mind the fact that—in a time known as the mid-90s—I used to live and work in the Gangnam district of Seoul. I was laboring for the local branch of a big-name ad agency, spending most of my time writing ads for a now-defunct car brand. In those “Stranger in a Strange Land” days, my 27-year-old self would have never believed that, 16 years later, three things would become reality at more or less the same time:
- That Americans would actually buy Korean luxury cars.
- That a Korean rap track would reach #2 on the Billboard pop chart.
- That I would be about to become a father.
Strange days indeed.
