What a week for my ego!  It's been confirmed by the New York Times that I AM THAT COOL!  They're not looking to syndicate the Slow Lane or making me a stringer or anything like that.  [Years ago they rejected my work in the harshest of terms.  Water over the dam.]  


My "coolness" is pretty much under wraps, but alive and well in the world of fashion.   It has to do with undies.  Seems young women have taken to "grannie panties" in lieu of the unhygenic thong.  Nasty, and what could be more uncomfortable than walking around with a permanent "wedgie?"


Grannie panties, soft, high-waisted cotton comfort.  Sales of grannies on the rise, thong sales going down. [No pun intended.] Some grannies have "Feminist" printed in bold letters on the backside.  Is the hooker look dying?


Though I am that cool, and a most loyal grannie pantie fan, I'll not be posting "belfies." You know, selfies taken from behind.



PS  A couple of summers ago, my friend remarked in the presence of a granddaughter, "I need to get some new thongs."   UPROAR!!  My friend, of course, was talking flipflops formerly known as thongs.



Is this irony or am I not only cool, but senile?  


[Wait a minute, folks.  I am senile.  The word means "old," not demented, just old.  Am I demented?   You can judge for yourself.]


Now where was I?  Oh yes.  The irony I'm talking is local TV news. The Red Cross (savers of lives, rescue teams, etc.) you know these folks.  And a casino (often a destroyer of lives leading to the need for resucue, etc) are joining forces to sponsor a program honoring local heros.  People making positive contributions to their communities.


Gambling is a choice, of course, and not all gambling is addictive.  But, come on, isn't it strange to link do-gooders with potential no-gooders in the  slow lane or anywhere else?   


Kinda like tobacco companies and their "Don't Smoke" (wink-wink) Programs.   WinkWink HOW IRONIC IS THAT?






He said, "Eat no red meat."  Well, maybe a little lamb. Eat these foods and you may live to be 110.  Just like the Arizona man.  He walks a mile a day.  He reads a lot.  Reading and walking and  five magic foods, that's his secret.  His father, a physician, lived to the ripe old age of 98 and gave him priceless advice.  


"I live on vegetables," he said.  And the fabled five foods.  Keep reading.... the secret will be yours.  


He spent the first 102 years of his life in NYC so obviously these foods kept ravages of air pollution and stress at bay.  Don't know how he spent his younger years except that he "was never sick a day of his life."  Wow!  He must've done some sort of work, had relationships, procreated, or not.  My God, look at the wars he's seen.  Still, his secret foods kept him calm and unworried.


Now, folks, for a mere $10 and a self-addressed envelope, the secret is yours..........JUST KIDDING!  


If you're a health nut, you probably guessed garlic and olive oil (he bathes his feet in it every night and hasn't bunion-one).  Honey (raw, I'd say), cinnamon, and chocolate!  I think he's on  to something.


In Detroit, a woman just celebrated her 116th, that's correct, her 116th birthday.  Her parents might've been slaves.  Surely the grandparents were.  Chipper in a saucy little hat, she replied when asked her secret for living so long,  "I couldn't do nothing about it."  She didn't look a day over 100.


So there you have it.  I don't know about you, but here in the slow lane, I'm going for more chocolate.  Thumbs up     

I'm so excited!  No, didn't win the lottery.  Thinner Half did not surprise me with a diamond bracelet. Grandchildren did not have triplets.  I'm not getting a face lift.  I'm not going anywhere except to the grocery store.  


But, get this:  The Fender folks (think guitar, not car) have been bombarding me with ads since I bought one of their auto tuners (again guitar, not car).  


Even though my instrument is a mountain dulcimer, they encourage me to move up to a Fender.  Ad after ad.   It's gratifying to know how much they appreciate my budding talent.


Hey, I may be in the slow lane, but I am that cool!  


Headline:  Vladimir Putin, the Russian Bare, scores 6 or 8 goals (depending on your source) in a recent hockey game played against retired NHLeague members.  Apparently, it was a charity game or something, that got the players off their canes and walkers into the hockey rink.  Why would you risk Siberia in retirement years?


Headline:  Flat shoes banned at Cannes Film Festival.  Are you kidding me?  Come on people, men quit wearing high heels hundreds of years ago. In spite of Women's Lib fifty years ago, foot-fetish men still control women's feet?  Would Chinese women go back to lotus-blossom feet?  


Headline:  Recently, I sent a text.  It's true.  I stepped off the slow lane into the 21st Century.  Also I dared a polite comment online that resulted in rude, public questioning of my intelligence, sexuality, and morality.  I was pretty mad, all right.  But I didn't take "de bate."


Call me anti-social, out-moded, even an old bag, but I like tending to my own business.  Still, I admit to a certain cyber-voyeurism as I creep around social networks looking and saying nothing.