All is well in the Addiverse as my new license plates have arrived and they just happen to match my new Madonna album.  I know this is shocking to you; after all, what are the chances that my new plates would have anything to do with Madonna, let alone be the SAME as the album title?

Unfortunately, I have learned that the title of her album is not only reference to her name (sans vowels) but also a nod to the drug ectasy (otherwise known as MDMA).  So we are clear, I do encourage use of Madonna albums but do not encourage the use of dance floor drugs, even when Madonna albums are playing under the disco ball.

Enough about pop culture and license plates.  I need to talk about our lawn.  I can't wrap my head around it.  The grass is the greenest, plushest, healthiest it has EVER looked. EVER.  I mean since the day we moved in, it has never looked better. Usually at this time of year, it's still brown-straw-ish and there are all sorts of dead spots from dog pee.  This year, I am supposing because of the ridiculously mild winter, the grass never really got brown and we never seemed to develop the dog pee rings.  We've already had to mow three times and we just crossed into April.  As long as it keeps raining now and again, we are going to have the most beautiful green carpet for a front yard.

I went to lunch with two youngsters earlier in the week.  They are half my age, so they qualify as youngsters. The grrrrlz asked me to go with them so they could ask questions of their elder (me).  They have been together for one year and wanted to talk to someone who had been together with someone for longer than that.  The wife and I definitely qualify.  Since the wife was unable to attend the lunch, I was left to my own devices to answer the questions posed.  For some reason, they started with the topic of arguing.

Grrrl 1: "What do you argue about?"
Me: Blank stare.  "Um.  Argue?"
Grrrrl 2: "Yeah, what DO the two of you argue about?"
Me: "Now? Or, way back when?"
Grrrls look at each other. Grrrl 2 shrugs her shoulders.
Grrrrl 1: "Now."
Me: "Gosh.  We tend to bicker.  We don't argue very much anymore. Um, I guess we argue about the lawn."

Talk about blank stares.

Me: "Well, I don't think the lawn needs to be cut yet and she does.  She worries about things like that.  I don't. So we argue about that."


I can tell they think I am from another planet.

Me (trying again): "I guess that sounds silly.  Huh. We argue about me not taking my shoes off in the house."

Now they are SURE I am from another planet.

Me (trying not to sound so old): "We used to argue about money.  Does that help?"

I can tell this does not help.  What the hell are they arguing about? It's certainly not about money, shoes or the lawn.  There is nothing I can do but ask, "Why do you want to know what we argue about?"
Grrrrl 2: "Do you argue about having friends?"

Ah! Now we are getting somewhere.  Me: "You mean about having friends? Like our "own" friends?"
Grrrrl 1 gives a dirty look at Grrrl 2, then spits out "That is exactly what I mean."  I swear I see  Grrrl 1 stick her tongue out at Grrrl 2.
Me: "You mean do I have my own friends and does the wife have her own friends and do we have together friends?"
Both grrrrls light up and exclaim "YES!" at the same time.

So, this is what they are arguing about.  Dear god, you could not pay me enough to be their age again.  Never.  The mega-millions would not be enough.  I sure do like bickering about the lawn more than this kind of thing.

Me: "Well, I have my own friends, the wife has her own friends, we have together friends, we have work friends, we have non-work friends, we have gay friends, we have straight friends, we have old friends, we have high school friends.  We have lots of friends. We have all kinds of friends. Why do you ask?"
Grrrl 1: "Oh, I don't know."
Grrrl 2 (with a growl and a glare): "Oh, you do too know.  SHE doesn't think I should have any friends besides her.  I think I should be able to go out with friends without her. I bet you can go out with your friends and the wife doesn't care."

Ooooh.  This has potential to get ugly.  There are steak knives at this table. I've got to figure out a way to diffuse the situation.  I decide there is only one thing to do--talk about something else.

Me: "Did you see my new license plates?"


This works like a charm.  They are totally thrown off kilter.  Me: "My new plates are all about Madonna.  She has a new album out, you know."

For the record, 25 year olds do not care that Madonna has a new album; in fact, I'm not sure they know who Madonna is.  I can tell that they have decided to stop asking questions and find someone who is a little less elderly to talk about such things like arguing.  There is only one other thing I can do:

Pick up the tab.

This also works like a charm.  Old people like me have more money than young people like them.  Who can argue when someone is paying for your lunch?

And so, the rest of the meal went swimmingly.  I don't think I helped them solve anything in regards to their relationship but I do think I reinforced the fact that getting older isn't all that bad...after all, I've got nothing more to worry about than if the lawn needs to be cut or if people understand my license plates and I have money to pay for lunch....

I think they decided that getting old people as friends is a safe way to go.

Lest you think I didn't leave them with any pearls of wisdom, let me assure you that I convinced them NOT to get each other's named tattooed on themselves.  I told them that is it NEVER okay to get someone else's name tattooed on your person unless it is your mother or your children's names.  NEVER.  I don't have the wife's name tattooed on me and I never will.  Call me superstitious but that would be like the kiss of death.  I made them promise not to do anything ridiculous like that.

See? Old people still do know what they are talking about, even if they don't have anything to argue about besides lawns and shoes.