Now that the White House Correspondents’ Dinner has passed, this might be the best time to state that this stuff is undignified and bothers me whoever does it, Democrat or Republican. I’m all for presidential humor, but it used to be a class act. Whatever JFK did in his private life, his jokes were actually funny, and very very tasteful. Same for FDR.
But I suppose that only marks me even further as the old fuddy-dud I have become.
And speaking of age (we were speaking of age, weren’t we?), John Hawkins has a post on what it’s like to turn forty.
I’ve got a reflection on what it’s like to turn—well, whatever it is I’m about to turn: you don’t remember what it’s like to turn forty.
Although, actually, it’s not too dissimilar from turning forty as Hawkins describes that process:
At 40, you actually start to see the trajectory of your life from the present day, all the way to the grave and you start asking yourself some hard questions. Did I pick the right career? Do I want to stay on the same path from now until I die? Am I ever going to fulfill those childhood dreams? What legacy am I going to leave to the world when I’m gone? Am I missing out on anything?…You start to realize that health is a finite resource. So is opportunity. So is energy. So is time.
Except now it’s getting serious.