Humor

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It's not easy being me. Need proof? Well, I have six children, two of whom are teen-agers and another is a 10-year-old who plays the trumpet and likes to dissect bugs.

As Stan Lee used to say, " 'Nuff said."

But wait ... there's more. Plenty more.

- My eyebrows have become wiry. If you don't have wiry eyebrows, you haven't a clue what it's like to live a life of anguish (actually, many of the things that make life as me uneasy revolve around the various locations of hair - or no hair - from the neck up).

- Although I am a master of directions, those I deal with are not. While I was in Harrisonburg recently, I needed to drop off a package at WVPT. I asked a well-dressed, middle-aged man walking down the street, "Can you tell me how to get to WVPT, the public-television station?" He said, "Go up four lights, turn left, follow the road as it loops around, then go three or four miles, and you'll see it." I followed these directions to a tee and ended up at WHSV's transmitter (that's the ABC affiliate, not the public-television station).

Now I know why that guy was walking, and not driving like the rest of us.

Next, I asked a police officer walking down the street (that should have raised a red flag). He said, "You can't see it from here, but it's just up the road from that building over there with the arch." OK, police are basically professional direction-givers ... but this guy turned out to be an amateur. Where did he end up sending me? That's right: the WHSV offices.

And for the few of you out there who really care about my life: I never did make it to WVPT; I came home and mailed the package to them.

- Our family's two vehicles total 24 years and 350,000 miles between them. Just keeping oil in the crankcase keeps me in the poor house. Out of seven doors, two can only be opened from the inside, while a third doesn't open at all.

- I'm a New England Patriots fan. Sure, it was great ... last year, but today? Don't ask.

- I'm a Boston Red Sox fan. Sure, it was great ... last year, but today? Don't ask.

OK, since you had to ask - can you imagine what my life is like since that hated Yankee Alex Rodriquez stole the MVP award from the much more deserving David Ortiz?

- My parents met through the brother of a New York Yankees pitcher. I understand that it was many years ago but, man, the thought of it still gives me the willies.

- I'm one of 14 people in the Shenandoah Valley who has never used "y'all" in a serious conversation, nor put a Confederate-flag bumper sticker on my car.

- Since I am on a self-imposed diet that no one else in the family is trying, I have to cook all my own meals. While they eat pan pizza smothered in cheese, I'm eating a spouted grain bagel. While they eat barbecued ribs, I eat a sprouted grain sandwich. While they eat apple pie right out of the oven, I eat a sprouted grain tortilla.

Now, I want everyone to understand that I am not laying claim to being the only person with a rough life. I'm sure there are many others besides me. Heck, there's my wife, for example. Her life is no bed of roses. Need proof?

Well, she's married to me.

'Nuff said.

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