I was reading an AARP thingie. (Disclaimer: this was not MY possession, it was something the Queen Mother brought along on Mother's Day saying that it had financial information we might find interesting. ) This thingie was not like a newspaper or a magazine, twas more like Parade in the Sunday paper. Anyway, before I knew it, I found myself nodding at an article and thinking how interesting it was.
"Interesting" and "AARP" at the same time in my brain. Is that not the scariest thing ever?
Because I've seen the magazine laying around in the Q.M.'s palace with the obligatory celebrity photo on the cover and wondered who exactly is being duped into believing AARP membership is now cool because Dolly Parton is on the cover. Then I begin wondering how much they had to pay Dolly to pose for an old-folks publication since there is not enough money in the world to coax me onto their cover. Okay, maybe when I'm around ninety-six and a half, demented, and it's either posing for AARP or selling my kidney to pay for the margarita I want to send to the cute guy at the end of the bar--I might consider it under those circumstances.
Or maybe just looking at AARP articles can cause significant loss of grey matter. That's possible, but shouldn't there be a warning label? 'Cause I cherish those little cells and want to keep them.
Caution: reading this magazine may cause wrinkles or grey hair. Other side effects can include intestinal bloating or fascination with suspenders and plaid slacks. Rarely occurring are polka dots or allergic reactions to sunscreen. Consult your physician before using.
And then there's that monthly tattletail article on who's turning five-oh. Seriously, do you think that's ethical? I mean, a person's age is such a personal thing, to publish it for all to see? Ouch! It makes paparazzi look genteel in comparison. All they do is take photos of hot males out on the town or gorgeous actresses without their makeup. No biggie. But to tell everybody that Hugh Laurie is at least, and possibly more than, half dead (in a statistical sense) with one foot in the grave? Yeah, I'd rather see a picture of him emerging from a VIP lounge at two a.m. and driving away in his Range Rover. If he has one.
I'd rather post about mowing our new sod for the very first time and the two bearded iris that bloomed on Monday. Or about the lilac bouquet that graced our table on Mother's Day. But somehow the shock of finding an AARP article interesting just highjacked the blog.
We now return you to our regularly scheduled program.