Oh, my, word, the level of nerdom up in here is almost deafening. So nerdy, in fact, that I just looked up the proper spelling of “nerdom.” Would you like to know what else will contribute to this Friday evening at the beginning of a long weekend? (As if we needed something nerdier than blogging to fill that bill.) I will be digging into a thrilling book on the architectural history of Albemarle Park. Don’t you wish your boyfriend was a geek like me?
The problem, of course, may not be related to nerditude. It may be more a fault of age. I went to get my hair cut at Tomkat’s in West Asheville the other day because that’s where Betsy went when she left Joe King’s. Betsy is the best barber I have ever had. There is only one problem. When she was cutting my hair, she would hide the clippings from my head and throw clipping from some dude with gray hair onto the apron. When you get to be my age, you don’t appreciate such things.
But when you get to be my age, there are a lot of things that could either be a source of distress or a source of comfort. It is unlikely that I will feel energetic at midnight very often; therefore, I can’t really go to a lot of rock and roll shows. Since I don’t have to go to rock and roll shows, I can get to bed at a decent hour. The fear of missing scene has faded as the fear of missing sunrise grows. I’m ok with that trade.