On high tops and Limitations 10/06/23

How many of us have forgotten their phones? In restaurants, bars, airplanes, taxi cabs, gas station convenience stores, and so on and so on. But some instances are more egregious than others. John was with someone (who shall go nameless to protect their identity) who left their phone on top of their car and drove away. But what made it worse is the phone was in a phone holder which also had room for multiple credit cards. When they realized their mistake they hightailed it back to the parking garage where they encountered a smashed iPhone, but miraculously, the credit cards were all there, scattered on the concrete. Point is, we all do it, even though we’re all so hopelessly dependent on those damn phones. I think the moral of the story is don’t leave your phone anywhere after you use it but back in your pocket or purse or man-bag if you carry one. And certainly don’t leave it in high, hard-to-see places.

Which brings me around to high chairs. Listen, I get it. It’s fun to sit at the bar. In fact, we have close friends who live in London, and when they go out they only like to sit at the bar. For yours truly, there’s two problems with that. For one, I am not only short, I am short-waisted. Which means my legs are proportionally longer than my torso. This sucks when attending movies and concerts, and driving certain makes of vehicles. Also sitting at high tops. But that part I can deal with. The part I absolutely hate is when my napkin invariably falls on the floor. First I stubbornly insist on trying to reach the napkin on the floor while still sitting in the chair. No can do. At least not anymore (it reminds me of a game I used to play with my son during a round of golf. It involved being able to pick up a golf ball from the rough, while in a moving golf cart. I used to be able to do it with about a 60% success rate, now, he does it. I have given up). Then, back to the high chair, I invariably excuse myself, push the chair back, climb down, pick up the napkin and resume eating, until my napkin falls again minutes later. This leads to the final indignity of tucking my napkin into my pants which just doesn’t seem dignified. Or fair.

And finally, for those of you who are wondering why I am writing an October blog in late September, it’s because I am off to Bhutan. Thanks for reading and being a fan of the New 60 and enjoy the fall weather. Just do it on a normal sized chair.

Andy and John

Lazy Days of Summer 09/02/22

Well Monday is it. Labor Day, end of summer, back to work (for our younger readers who still work), and even more horrifying, back to the office and back to commuting. In our Labor Day comic, Al and Marv ponder all this and, as a smile forms on their lips, realize they no longer have to put up with any of it. I was reminded of a time 6 years ago, November, when my time as an ad guy came screeching to a halt (not my decision). It was the first free, non-vacation weekend I had in 40 years. I was taking a walk with my wife on this beautiful natural trail through the woods called the Old Croton Aqueduct. Yep, that’s right, it used to be an aqueduct carrying water from Croton-Harmon in Westchester all the way down to NY City. And then man discovered pipes, and so no more aqueduct. All that was left was this beautiful, wooded trail that stretches for 26 miles, about the length of a marathon. But I digress (is it really digressing when it’s something you do all the time?) Anyway, it was a Saturday afternoon and I realized I had forgotten to go grocery shopping. Saturday afternoon was my time to go shopping, because I commuted and worked Monday through Friday. I said to my wife, “Damn, we’ve got to cut this walk short. I forgot to go to Whole Foods (yeah, call me a yuppie but that’s where I go). She turned to look at me and said, “Why don’t you just go Monday?” It took a second for this new reality to sink in, and as it did, I felt my shoulders drop as I relaxed, and realized this was going to be my new reality. Free time, bike rides on Tuesdays, golf on Wednesdays, movies on a Monday when everyone else was working. Woo hoo! We imagined that’s how Al and Marv might feel as they pondered their own futures.

Our next comic was about grandparenting. How can you get the most joy from the least work? If you’re not yet a grandparent, believe us, there’s a lot of work. And a lot of joy. If you can figure out how to cut down on the work and up the joy, you’ve got yourself a winning combo. And bingo, we had our comic. Al just attached an inner tube to a rope tied to a remote-controlled boat, and the kid was being towed all over the pool without Al having to once get off his lazy butt. We all have shortcuts we use from time to time. Some, like putting the kids in front of Sesame Street while you get ready for work, are considered helpful. While others, like putting the kids in front of cartoon shows while you get ready for work, are considered lazy.

So how would you consider Al’s shortcut of watching his granddaughter in the swimming pool. Ingenious? Or lazy? Or a bit of both? Obviously Joanne, Al’s wife, opted for lazy.

Enjoy the last weekend of your lazy Summer as we retired folks transition to our lazy Fall. See you next week with two new ones. See, we’re not that lazy. Or at least John isn’t.

Andy and John

Leftovers 08/26/22

As the summer rushes to a close (can Labor Day really be a week away), we start packing up to return to our normal routines. If you happened to rent a vacation home, it’s time to take stuff out of the refrigerator and either 1) toss it out or 2) take it home. Hint: toss it out. But it is our observation that most couples consist of a hoarder and a tosser outer. This inevitably leads to conflict. “But this yogurt is one day past its expiration date! Toss it!” Followed by “We haven’t even opened it. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” Followed by, “I won’t eat it!” Followed by, “Fine, I will!” Sound familiar? Well there’s a crucial step prior to the tossing out step. And that is the “to go” step at the end of a typical restaurant meal. Most restaurant meals are way larger than they need to be (except for molecular gastronomy, which we covered in early August) which leads to the inevitable decision at the end of said meal. The waitperson approaches the table with some form of “Would you like me to wrap that up for you/still working on that/do you need more time?” My least favorite end of meal request happened in a fancy Portland, Maine, restaurant when the waitress inquired, “How were your flavors?” I wanted to reply, ”I don’t know, eat me,” but decided (for once in my life) that marital happiness trumped cleverness, and responded, “Fine.” Back to the takeout. John pointed out that most take out containers make it back to the refrigerator (unless you forget them overnight in the back seat of your car) where they remain unopened for the rest of the week, before being tossed into the garbage -unopened and uneaten. You’d think we’d learned our lessons after repeating this habit after almost every restaurant meal, but nah, we’re likely to reply to the waiter/waitress, “Thanks, I’ll take it to go.”

Our other comic is also about leftovers. Leftover Covid tests, to be exact. Did you know that Covid tests have an expiration date? John did. I had no clue, but the knowledge that the tests had a time limit changed our behavior around the tests. We’re having company for dinner tonight? Ask them to take a test. You coughed, sneezed, felt tired, felt sad that the Mets got swept by the Yankees, take a test. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I am awfully tired of continually sticking that overgrown Q-tip up my nose. Ugh! Maybe that’s why Dr. Fauci decided it was time to retire. In any event, stay safe and Covid-free and if it means sticking that swab up there again, and if I have to, then sigh, stick it I will. Have a great weekend and we will see you on Labor Day weekend as we prepare to launch into the fall. At least we’re all old enough to not have to go back to school.

Andy and John

Food, Glorious Food

These days, at our age, it’s all about weddings and funerals. The weddings of our friends’ children and the funerals of our friends’ parents, our own parents or, heaven forbid, our friends. Recently John attended a funeral while I went to a wedding. And you end up hearing a lot of stories that you knew about, but a bunch of stories that you didn’t. John suggested this as a topic for a comic. For instance, I learned of the random arrest of a kid who was buddies with one of my kids (what did he get into and was my own kid involved????), acts of surprising kindness and charity, and in the case of a funeral, you can also be surprised in ways both good and bad. John said he learned some surprisingly good things at the funeral of a friend’s parent—that the parent had fought in a couple of big battles in WW II. Who knew? Not John. At any rate we decided to play this out in a funeral parlor, after debating doing it in the deli where Sal actually worked. It would have looked a lot like Katz’s because we’re both native New Yorkers and Katz’s is the last of the old-time delis still standing. Some of the old faithfuls remain, but in vastly different locations. For instance, the famed 2nd Ave Deli, spelled with English letters that resemble Hebrew letters (famously designed by my former art director partner, Mark Shap-may he rest in peace) is now no longer located on 2nd Avenue. Go figure. But back to the comic, it’s fun to hear about people you thought you knew well. The positive stuff, but also the negative stuff that makes you raise your eyebrows silently (even if we made it all up).

Now our next comic also has to do with food and this time it’s something John experienced and I read about. Molecular gastronomy. Food is all about experimentation. And as the world becomes flatter, we frequently mix different cuisines to produce new flavor combos. I once went to a sushi restaurant in Madrid where one of the courses was a mini cheeseburger, cut like a piece of sushi, atop a small bed of rice. Pretty damn good if I say so myself. But these wildly innovative chefs are constantly trying to experiment and the pressure must be enormous. For instance, John and his wife once visited WD-50, which sounds like a motor oil but stands for the chef, Wylie Dufresne. I’m sure we all remember past cooking techniques, like “tall food” where your plate was stacked high, one ingredient atop the other. Trouble with tall food is that once you cut into it, it all fell down on the plate and it wasn’t so tall anymore. Well, Wylie ushered in a technique called molecular gastronomy. I mean, who wouldn’t want liquid nitrogen sprayed on their chicken paillard? What is a dish without foam and fog? According to John, everything they ordered looked nothing like it was supposed to but tasted exactly like you thought it would. And because of its tiny size, it was packed full of flavor. The only thing that wasn’t miniaturized was the check, and there came our punchline. Sadly (or happily if you’re me) this fad faded as less accomplished chefs tried their hands at it. As Alex Stupak, Dufresne’s pastry chef put it, “It’s like pyrotechnics at a Kiss concert. Take that away (the smoke and fog), take your face paint away and you suck.”

That’s all she (or he) wrote this week. Next week the surgically repaired half of The New 60 (the Andy half) will try next week’s blog but who knows what kind of drugs I’ll be on? One thing’s for certain, like molecular gastronomy, it’ll be an adventure.

Andy and John

Falling From Grace 7/29/22

For those of you who like shorter blogs, this is your week. One half of the New 60 team got hit by a car while on his bicycle this week. That constitutes one fall from grace (as well as a broken ankle.) Then we did a comic about a terrifying amusement park ride we called Free Fall, where you take a lift and step into what looks like an elevator 20 stories up in the air. The elevator then does a free fall until the hydraulics kick in and slow you down seemingly 10 feet from total destruction. I wouldn’t go on that for the life of me, but I guess it tops being hit by a car. And the final fall comes when the beloved waitress, Dottie, reveals today’s wordle. (Don’t worry readers, it isn’t really TODAY’S Wordle.)

But back to the amusement park. The genesis for this came from a visit to Great Adventure Amusement Park in New Jersey. Two dads took their two kids each. One had two boys, and I had a boy and a girl. On all the scariest rides, all three boys were raring to go. I was terrified. And my daughter looked a little reticent as well. So I did the brave thing and hid behind her. “Are you sure you want to go down this thing?” I’d ask. And she would decline and I’d tell my buddy, the other dad, why don’t you go with the boys and I’ll stay with my daughter. It all worked out in the end, though truth be told, if I had asked my daughter in a bright voice, “Wanna do down this thing with me???” she likely would have given it a try. So bad parenting yes, but give me a break, or rather don’t, my ankle is broken enough.

See you next week with two new ones and a walking boot.

Andy and John.