Woke up this morning and looked all over the house for “The Instruction Manual.” Damn. Would have really thought “They” would have delivered it by today (at a minimum!).

Tried to stifle the urge to peruse eBay looking for small-ish 1970’s Ferrari/Maserati/Lamboghini coupe. Not red – too damn stereotypical. Wasn’t successful, but thankfully only bid insufficient amounts.

Realization that I could have fathered any of the women in my wife’s Victoria Secret catalogue, or any of the men in this weekend’s NBA Freshman All Star game.

This weekend’s SPAM has been ferocious. Three an hour – and all focused on my whatnot. At least the euphemisms are worth reading, “Willy, Potato Man, One-eyed Snake, Love Muscle, your Member, Erect-oid, Ejaculator, your Johnson, your Manhood, Schlong, Love Monkey, Spud Stud, etc. Do they know something about turning 40 that I don’t? Should I be getting concerned? Does some marketing guru keep a master list of those males who are turning 40 and then they let loose the torrents of anxiety-raising questions regarding one’s sexual competency. Is this SPAM a portion of the Instruction Manual for which I have been searching diligently?

Cumulative knowledge I have learned in the last 40 years:

- Only when I stop and think about it, do I realize that I am the luckiest person I know. In the heat of the battle, many aspects/moments of my life can look pretty uncomfortable/dire.

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