I have discovered that I am becoming addicted to blogging. I'm not too surprised at it because I knew it was only a matter of time before I came out of the closet of self-expression. All of these years I have been content with immortalizing my words on pieces of notebook paper, the margins of magazines and newspapers (remember those?) and the random bathroom wall. Mt bathroom wall entries were easily recognizable. They would be the inscription that did not include a bodily function, hatred or sexual reference. I wonder what people in that truck stop in New Jersey think when they read my thoughts on post modernist history and contextual interpretation? Oh, maybe they'll buy a dictionary or I might have started a new fad.

Did I mention that I'm beginning to not like Saturdays? They are such a let down at times. I spend all week looking forward to the weekend and when it's finally Saturday, I get up early, make my coffee and then I start wondering, "What the hell do older people do on Saturday that doesn't involve yard work, house work or stuffy country clubs"-not that I could afford to hangout at a stuffy country club.

When I was younger, Saturdays were fun and convenient for recovering from hangovers. Now that I'm older, there are not anymore hangovers because after one drink I'm ready for a nap. Sad isn't it? So, that means Saturdays need have a new use that involves fun but just what that would be, I don't know. Let's look at the ways a guy my age with time on his hands could have fun.

The Mall

I could go the mall and join the the wacky mall walkers on their endless loops of the mall interior but let's face it, that is just too boring! I could sit at the Starbucks kiosk and watch the thirty something Mall Moms power drink their latte while simultaneously talking on their cell phones to other Mall Moms who are too busy to visit the mall.

One neat activity is watching the adolescent "kewl" wannabes strut their stuff. The pimply teenage boys with their pants hanging down around their knees and their cheesy boxers hanging out while threatening to fall off their skinny little behinds are always a hoot. They try to walk, talk and gesture like a gansta with their hats on at impossible angles and hand gestures that make them look like they are having a seizure.

Then there are the teenage girls who walk around like they were hookers. They wear these skirts that are slightly wider than a band aide and tops that reveal nothing more than unripe fruit supported by goodness knows what they stuffed in their bra. Do their parents know they dress like that? It makes me want to ground the lot of them for a week, even if they aren't my kids.

Another favorite mall activity is the food court. It never ceases to amaze me that some people (myself included at times) think that eating in the food court is dining out. I get a kick out them as they patiently wait at their favorite not-so-fast-food concession while a business run and led by teenagers attempts to efficiently and promptly deliver their "delicious and hearty" meal. Of course, the kids working the line are scratching their anatomy, picking their nose or sneezing into your food as it is being assembled. Then folks have to wait until the three attempts at delivering the correct order is resolved. Oh, and watch out for the skinny kid serving the drinks. He was neighbor of mine and I know where he's been and the fact that his personal hygiene does not involve soap.

I guess yo can see that the mall offers plenty of entertainment if you know how or where to look.

Other Saturday Options:

Going to a bar at noon and watching people who swear they normally never drink before four get very drunk.

Go the local laundromat and check the soda machines and pay phone for change left in the coin return.

Watch your neighbor prune his bushes until he discovers that someone has thrown up in them the night before. (I'm not guilty of that one-remember the one drink equals a nap thing?)

You can hang out at the airport, act like you are waiting a for a celeb and sign autographs for teenagers returning from Virginia Beach and on their way to the mall.

And of course there is that age old activity of sitting in the park and pretending to talk to yourself and see what people do when they walk by. It's recommended that you get some flailing arm action and random senseless shouts going or the passer-by might just think you're talking into to your Bluetooth device.

I guess that about does it for Saturday entertainment options. I think I'll do what I usually do....nothing.

Sigh.....