What a great time to be a professional complainer. Like myself. And to have written a how-to book about the subject, which will, no doubt, be catapulted to the best seller list due to a recent article in The New York Times. Nearly 10 years into my third-act career and I have finally been validated.
Everyone is writing a book these days – John Kerry, Michelle Obama, Bob Woodward, Elizabeth Warren, Kamala Harris, Chris Christie, Howard Schultz, Susan Goldfein. Susan who? See, that’s the problem. No one knows who I am! And the field is so crowded, that I don’t stand a chance in hell of being invited
As an adult at the outermost limit of middle age, I admit to embracing two bits of pop psychology by which I try to live out my days: staying in touch with my inner child, and not sweating the small stuff. Generally, the two popular wisdoms co-exist side-by-side rather peaceably. In addition to being playful
I knew this day would come. I’ve been dreading its arrival for over three years. It’s that very disquieting sensation of tranquility, however temporary, when your existence has reached an unsettling plateau of comfort. And, try as you will, you just can’t seem to find anything to complain about. I know how enviable the circumstance
Friends – even if you are one of those people who claim to be only vaguely interested in television, and swear that you watch only PBS soap operas, British spy movies, The History Channel, or Bloomberg Business, you must be aware that the new season is upon us. I, for one, am an unabashed TV
It isn’t every day that one buys a new automobile. Therefore, it should be an occasion marked with at least some measure of anticipation and excitement as I drive the shiny, as yet undented chariot off the dealer’s lot. So why do I feel like I want to go directly home, cover my mirrors, and
I have a bone to pick with Hollywood. Which just goes to show how annoyed I am, that so soon after the festival of engorgement I’m still talking about picking on bones! Do you like movies? Do you like going to the movies, or are you one of those people who prefer sitting on your couch
I don’t know about you, but the longer I live, the more I become aware of daily irritants. These niggling events pose a threat to the inner peace to which I feel entitled. I mean, once you reach a certain age, have you not earned the right to punch the person next to you on