I don’t know who Paul Banks is. There, I said it.
I started blogging a couple of months ago after defecting from another alledged website for writers. I escaped along with a few other refugees, some of whom you might have seen poking around here and there. A lot of the people in our little group have children, and some have grown children. A few even have grandkids. I’m one of the younger members of that group.
Then I came here and found a most excellent group of talented writers. They are sweet and clever and they’ve made me laugh out loud on more than a few occasions. The trouble is, they’re young. Most of the time I can keep up with what they’re talking about, but they keep going on about someone named Paul Banks. I’m too scared to tell them I don’t know who the crap Paul Banks is. That makes me feel old.
So today, on the ninth anniversary of my twenty-ninth birfday, I’ve decided to get in touch with my rapidly approaching middle age. I was born during the Nixon administration, so fucking what? That doesn’t make me a bad person. And at least I can say I was around for Woodstock and the moonwalk. OK, so I happened to be a fetus at the time, so sue me.
If anyone else out there would like to join me in celebrating my impending doom please feel free to leave a comment below. If anyone needs me I’ll be in the kitchen with my head in the oven.
Deadpan 
26 Comments
Get your silly head out of the oven. I was born during the Kennedy administration, and am one of those with grandkids. If I’m not old yet, neither are you! And I refuse to be old. 😉
Just remember all the “puppies” out there still have to learn the lessons we’ve already survived.
I’M A BAD TRIPLET! GEEEESH…. And I don’t know who Paul Banks is either, and I’m WAY older than you.
Me next. I don’t know when, but me next. 🙂
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Banks
Thereya go, Sissy–apparently he’s a member of a band I’ve never heard of. Wheee…and he was born two years after I got out of high school. Feel better? No? Move over, I need space for my head…
Happy Birthday….
Plenty of room for both of us Sissy.
Hi Shawn! How do you guys like the new place?
I don’t know either.
I don’t think it is really physical age that is important. It is mental age. I’m more immature than any of those new youngsters. It took years of practice! Now I’ve got immaturity down to a science.
Old enough to know better, young enough not to care: words to live by.
I have Bongo beaten in the immaturity department. Ask my wife.
I blame it on Anners why I even know who he his and what band he’s in! She is the debil!
Without her, I would have no idea either
Paul Who?
What happened to you? Went and got a domain name, I see.
Well, yes, according to my daughter, after you turn 25 it’s all downhill. Your body starts to age until it finally dies. The end.
Sucks, and now I’m off to google your Banks person.
Happy, happy birthday!!!
Wanda! First of all, happy Birfday again!
Second of all: Hahahahhaahaha! You’re not old if you don’t know who Paul Banks is because not many people do (my age & younger). You just have to have great taste in music to discover him. Hee Hee
If you’re really curious (ha) just go to my site for info on Paul Banks… Paul Banks is my boyfriend (just kidding). Actually all you need to know about him is that he’s cool beans!
* I like the changes, Mrs. Rizzuto!
* Happy, Happy Birthday…. 🙂
OK, if you say so Anners.
BTW, I can’t concentrate on my work because I keep looking at that pic of Orli. But I love it, thanks!
O.K.
I looked up this Paul person and listened to part of a song on MySpace.
After I woke up, I thought, Soundgarden, that was the singer we liked to watch…
Happy Birthday!
I say get your head out of the oven and let them stick a cake in there instead!
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you…
Love the new place.
You are most welcome, Wanda! I think I’m the only slag who fancies him with pirate naps…
Doom?
When I turned 30, my son (then the only one) had just turned 3, and my father sent us this elaborate card he drew with a cake playing on the 3/30 thing. He thought it was funny.
And you haven’t even reached there yet?
Okay, he didn’t draw the card with a cake. It was a pencil drawing, but it had a cake on it.
There’s doom and old and tired for you.
Thirdculture, I’M 38!
Thereya go, baby girl, OWN that age…because someday you’ll be *gasp!* 49! :D:D:D
wait a minute, you’re my neighbor and a Sagg too! I think I love you Mrs. Rizzuto – and I didn’t know who Paul Banks was either until Kate Blogsworth
I hope I NEVER get as old as you. Jebus.
This is why I’m so grateful for having been completely alienated and disenfranchised my entire life. No references to anything have ever made sense to me, so I don’t feel any less au courant now than I have in the past.
Yeah, well, I may not have heard of Paul Banks, but I bet the Paul Banks people have never heard of Gigi Dover or Blue Tattoo. So there!
C’mon, Wanda, it could be much worse — you could be our age and not have any interesting friends to share it with. And if you keep your head stuck in the oven, how can you honestly expect the cookies to get done baking?
I’ve finally wandered here. I’m late as always and slow as usual. Happy Belated Birthday.
Hi Wurdz!
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