I'm much to young (to feel this damn old)

Museums are neat places. Generally there's going to be two types of things in museums . . . either really intersting things or really old things.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found out that the mini-museum of the student newspaper I wrote for in college had an article I'd written on display.

As you regular readers know, I'm not that intersting a guy, so that can only mean one thing. I'm old. After all, something of mine is on display in an historical context.

Of course, this isn't the first time I've had to face the reality that I'm getting older. When I was 17, Parental Unit took me out to buy me some new blue jeans (and you never say no to free clothes), and then we went grocery shopping (a small price to pay.) Anyway, after getting everything we needed, we proceeded to make our way to the checkout line (thankfully, this is before the self-checkout stuff.)

As we're waiting in line, a little boy who couldn't have been older than four tapped me on the leg and said (and I'll never forget this as long as I live) "sir, your milk is leaking."

I didn't know what to do. (Actually, that's not entirely true, I knew enough to go replace the milk jug with one that wasn't leaking, but that's beside the point.) A kid had just called me "sir." I was still in high school at the time. Heck, I was calling 25-year-olds sir. There was no way in this great wide world that I'd moved up to "sir" status. I don't fault the kid for calling me sir. After all, he was only being polite and doing what his parents had taught him. But still, I was only 17.

Unfortunatley, I'm being called "sir" more and more. I'm still fighting it. Just last week our new preacher introduced me as "Mr. Luke" to his son (who couldn't be any older than seven) and I said, "no need for Mr., just call me Luke." He (the pastor, not the son) said he faught that battle until he was 35 before giving up. Well, I'm 26 now, so I've got another nine years (at least) to continue the good fight against being called "sir."

Exercise Update: I played dodge ball today and let me tell you, my arm hurts right now just typing. I haven't thrown that much since I played baseball when I was 13. I'm scared to go to bed because when I wake up tomorrow, in addition to being sore all over, I'm not sure I'll be able to move my arm. That being said, I can't wait to play again. (And for the record, I'm miserably out of shape!)

Cubs Update: After losing eight straight, the Cubs actually won a game 9-6. Unfortunately, unless they play remarkably well for the second half of the season, it appears we could be heading to another "wait til next year" type season.

Weekend plans: I've got to work Saturday and Sunday (don't feel sad, it's only about two hours each day.) I'm also going to a wedding Saturday morning (my second in as many weeks, with another one next weekend.) Sunday, I'll watch the Cubs and, if it's not ungodly hot, try to play tennis with Yes Dear (if I can lift my arm.)

On Deck: Who knows, I'll reach into the grab bag and pull something out.
Next Update: Monday

Have a great weekend all, and until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.