I've actually been meaning to do this for a while. Ever since I gave my first blog the title Grumpy Old Man, I kind of hated it. It's unoriginal, bland, and over all just not good. This new one may not be good, either, but at least it's my own.
I suppose I'd better explain what this new title means. I'd say it was about 6 months ago when I was at a party with my then-fiance, and one of her relatives decided to ruin my week by telling me I look like Taylor Hicks. Now, I'm going to lie and say it didn't sting, but I was at least able to brush it off as some harmless ball-busting. Basically I just figured they were making a comment on the fact that I've got an inordinate amount of gray hair for a man in his twenties.
So after about three weeks of crying, I was able to put it behind me. But then, at my wedding, I'm heading to the bar to get myself a good, stiff drink (Shirley Temples count right?) when I see the two bartenders murmuring to themselves. When I asked what was up, one of them decided to point out that I looked just like that Taylor Hicks guy from American Idol. My first thought was that one of my wife's family members put them up to it, so I scanned the room looking for a person laughing in my direction so that I could go and murder them. When I saw no laughing person, I was forced to face up to the fact that once again I had been compared to this goofy fucking man.
At this point I was considering cosmetic surgery, but I decided to at least wait until my wife and I got through the honeymoon. For those of you who didn't read about my adventures in Italy, let me just say that you should go if you get the chance. We had a great time taking in the local history, enjoying the wine tours, and of course eating to the point of death. We even met a really nice couple from New York while we were at one of the wineries, and were fortunate enough to meet them later on for dinner. While enjoying a fantastic evening of food, wine, and conversation, the man of the couple (a 40-something Irishman) asked me if I was familiar with American Idol. Needless to say, I knew where this was going right away, so I threw my drink in his face and left. OK, I didn't do that, but I did spend 10 minutes forcing him to explain to me how he meant that as a compliment.
So apparently, I look like Taylor goddamn Hicks. I might as well learn to live with this fact, and I guess this blog is a way of coming to terms with something I find very unpleasant. I've got all my old blog posts transferred over here, so you don't have to worry about going back to see any of my classic work. I know you were worried. Hope you like the new page.