I look around and all I see are tanned, slim - key word, slim - supple bodies in various states of undress. Bathing suits, trunks, bikinis, G-strings – you name it – it’s youth at its finest. I’m digging it all, too. I’m a sucker for all things beautiful and unfettered youth is beautiful indeed. I’m so psyched at this throwback to my youth that I want to heave a big fuck you to Old Age, but my beer gut won’t let me. Funny thing is, I don’t even drink beer…

I recently came to a startling realization: I am a slacker and proud of it. Slackers are not lazy – we simply prefer to experience life via our own non-traditional means. Slackers operate by a totally different set of rules. Our idea of culinary bliss is an-all-you can-eat $5.99 buffet...

You should be dancin’… Disco was like a beautiful woman who takes you by the hand and asks you to dance, regardless of your ability (or inability), to keep a recognizable beat. All caution was thrown to the proverbial wind, as social mores and didactic customs were pushed away in favor of the almighty boogie.

Time and again, I’m used to dreaming by myself, being by myself. It also doesn’t help that I’m still trying to figure out myself. So, it goes without saying that I’m a success in my dreams, though I’m the only one who knows it...

“I’ll take Bruce Springsteen for 300, Jeff...” Those are my thoughts as I sit on the PATH train to Manhattan, eagerly anticipating my chance to audition for “Rock ‘n Roll Jeopardy”, an excellent, if somewhat hard-to-find, show on VH1...