Vintage 80's Commercial/PSA

Those Mormons had a nice run of memorable commercials in the 80's. They also had the foresight to cast a pre-Michael Jackson, pre-Silver Spoons, pre-Carlton from Fresh Prince, Alfonso Ribeiro as the inner-city hoodlum with a affinity for show-tunes. The Mormons though must have thought the folks in the 80's were pretty morally corrupt though...all their Public Service Announcements were about telling the truth. Now people in the 80's might have been coke-loving, John Hughes (R.I.P.) watching, Wang-Chunging, fashion-misfits, but it's pretty harsh to assume they were all liars. How come we didn't see any P.S.A. commercials regarding polygamy? Apparently, it's okay to keep a harem of women holed up in your Utah cabin, but you're going to hell if you take off running because your paper route isn't going to cover the costs of some geezers broken window. Thankfully, Alfonso saw the light and decided to live the REAL American dream - Big Macs and monogamous underage relationships!

Virtual Road Rage Solution?

This almost makes me want to get an iPhone. Knowing myself though I'd totally abuse this iPhone application. I'd be whipping it out on the Red Line, in the office, at my grandmother's 85 birthday party...I'd be virtually killing everyone.

Greatest Picture Of All Time?

I want this picture framed and hanging in Leo's room for the next 18 years! No wonder Wilt the Stilt bedded all those women...look at the company he keeps and check out those fancy duds.

What Do Larry Bird's Jersey & Yours Truly Have In Common?

The number 33. I'm actually finding it hard to believe that I'm this old. I look at old pictures of my uncles and they look more like "adults" at 28 than I do at 33. They say that our 30's are the NEW 20's. I guess that despite my age, I still actually feel young. Hell, I've been married almost 7 years, I have two pissah kids (one of which is 4), so I should look and feel like a walking corpse at 33 right? It's quite the opposite, which I suppose comes with it's drawbacks. The Mrs. seems to get quite annoyed when I'm rough-housing with the G or throwing myself all over the soccer pitch, only to come home battered and bruised. It's not even like I'm trying to hold onto any fleeting moments of irresponsible youth. I KNOW I can't hang like I used to. I've got 2 jobs to maintain, 2 kids to entertain and the damn grass isn't gonna cut itself.

This makes me wonder how I'm going to feel at 40...or 50...or 60? My grandparents are in their 80's kicking it in Florida, playing golf everyday. I can do that! Bottom line is that life is moving at break-neck speed and I'm enjoying the ride. I see too many miserable people, living miserable lives and you know what happens...they have a heart attack, then sayonara. Fuck That! I feel just fine that I still get carded...for scratch tickets. I'm glad I bust my ass to stay in shape...yes, that means extra chest. I know Death doesn't discriminate, but I'm not going to make it easy. My other grandmother (not the one in Florida) has smoked cigarettes and drank everyday for the last 60 or so years and she's not slowing down at 85. Based on my figures, I should at least clear the century mark and that's still 67 years away.

So Happy Birthday to me and "Thanks" to my friends for all my birthday wishes. The way I see it, I'm like a fine wine (not the type that comes in a box - although it's still delicious!), I'm only getting better with age. In fact, you look into a crystal ball 67 years from now and this is what you'll see:

The Gun Show Still Going Strong!