When I was a child, I wanted a crystal ball. I wanted to peer into a glass sphere and tell the future. My mother, however, didn't need a crystal ball. When she asked me where the cookies went, she knew I'd say, "I don't know". When she asked me how the glass got broken, she knew I'd say, "I don't know".
Politicians say "I don't know" a lot too. Maybe they're in touch with their inner child. Of course, when they spend more time trying to raise money for their next campaign than they do serving their present term, I know they think they're an only child.
As soon as a child is sixteen - whether you're ready or not - he or she will want to drive. The predictable sequence of events is lessons, test, permit and license. The predictable outcome is that these new drivers will drive like their parents. They'll start seeing more orange lights than red lights and they'll be adding ten miles per hour to the speed limit.
A child's first car is usually a used car. No matter how nice a used car salesperson is or what a used car salesperson says or what little, old lady previously owned the car, it doesn't take a Fulbright scholar to know that when you buy a used car, you're going to feel used.
You're meant to feel like a proudly supportive fan when you wear a team's official jersey. Professional sports teams change uniforms to sell more product. Build it and they will come. Wear it and they will buy. When I see a boy wearing the shirt of his favorite player, I smile. When I see a man wearing the shirt of his favorite player, I understand. Wearing a player's shirt is one of the few ways men feel comfortable expressing their feelings - on their backs instead of on their sleeves.
Because of men and women who don't feel comfortable with their bodies, my gym is always crowded with new members on January second. There are fewer members after the Super Bowl parties and even fewer after Valentine's Day. Then I know there'll be plenty of parking until June - when bathing suit season is back.
I don't need a crystal ball to know these things. In fact, if someone gave me one, I wouldn't use it. I already know I don't want anything more to dust. |
