And Piles to Go Before I Sleep

Write what you know, they say, which is what I’m doing as I wedge this post in between today’s fourth and 45th load of laundry.

Life may be short but laundry is eternal when you have two teens involved in things such as high school sports and taking a bazillion Snapchat photos of themselves, the latter of which requires changing outfits like spastic cable remotes change channels. Which reminds me of an old joke:

Worst Commencement Speech Advice Ever

Another year of high school commencement ceremonies cometh and againth I was not asked to speak at any of them.

Graduates, count your blessings.

I say this because, unlike the school benefactors and politicians whose words you won't pay attention because of your preoccupation in learning the whereabouts of the nearest keg party, I would have brought to your lectern one vital thing: experience. (And also the knowledge that it's a lectern and NOT a podium, but that's another post.)

Green, Green Lawns of the Uncool Home

Is anything as inseparable as a dad and his lawn?

Maybe a dad and his grill.

Or a dad and his beer.

Definitively a dad and that pair of underwear from 15 years ago with the air-conditioned crotch that’s just too dang comfy to toss.

But let’s get back to lawns and #LawnGoals because that is what the good people at Cub Cadet are paying me to write about here.

Old Buzzard Devours Sweet Bird of Youth

My friends, go mark your calendars: My farewell tour starts tomorrow.

I’m not going anywhere. That's obvious by the fact that after all the years and all the awards won writing this junk that I’m now making less money than I was when I started this venture. (I have a degree in journalism, people, not personal finance.) Instead, I am embarking on a year-long goodbye to my youth because, about this time next year, I turn 50.

Hit Rewind: Uncool, Cassette Tapes on Comeback

I’m musically hip again.

Maybe not my musical tastes so much, but my music listening format is definitely hip again.

As hip as something can be after it has been declared so by that bastion of all things pop culture, The Wall Street Journal.

Baseball's Annual Opening Day Panic

Professional athletes -- baseball players, in particular -- are known for having very specific and downright odd pre-game rituals. Hall of Famer Wade Boggs, for example, always ate chicken. Contrarily, he wasn’t particular about whether it was cooked by his wife or mistress.

Fans have their rituals, too. Here’s what has happened in the past 24 hours, just as it has for the past decade, leading up to my family’s annual excursion to see today's New York Mets home opener: