Evolution. 05/30/25

Darwin had it right about this survival of the fittest stuff. As time and tech march forward relentlessly there are somethings (okay a lot of things) that get progressively more difficult. Turning on a television, tuning a car radio (mine no longer offers AM but satellite radio…no problemo), operating a soap dispenser or faucet in a public restroom…the list goes on and on (as do I). In fact, our soap dispenser at home stopped working so I bought one on the internet, and we still can’t figure it out. But there is nothing more confounding than the car seat. When we were kids we used to ride in the back seat or even shotgun without even a seat belt. Then when we became parents, we had to adapt to car seats. Incredibly bulky. Incredibly heavy. But easy to figure out. Take the seat belt, run it through the bottom of the car seat and click. Something like that, because memory…oh that’s right, that was last week’s blog. But 2 weeks before this was written, my wife and I had one of our granddaughters (the 4-year old) sleep over for the weekend. When we picked her up, her mom (otherwise known as our daughter) put in the car seat. There were two plastic prongs on the bottom that someway magically clicked into two slots in the back seat that I never even knew existed. Then the bit with the seatbelt, coupled with a shoulder harness that…as they say in Brooklyn, fuhgeddaboutit. When we dropped her at home after the weekend, I applied my new knowledge for how to seamlessly remove the car seat. I called my daughter and she came outside and did it for me.

Our other comic is about the evolution of(or de-evolution if there is such a word, and by the way, it’s how the band Devo got its name) of man and womankind. Every day for more decades than we’d like to count, John and I came to work in NY City everyday on a a commuter train). Depending on which track it let you off, you were confronted with your choice of a staircase or an escalator. I spoke to John about this and we each had similar memories. As new dads we would work in some exercise by climbing those stairs, sometimes two at a time if I was late, which I often was. Then, as we hit our late 40’s/early fifties, we started walking up the escalator. I figured, hey I’m still walking, right? Then in our 50’s and into our 60’s we started riding the escalator. Now if nobody was in front of me, I might climb the last few steps, but in essence, we were riding. Finally, and thankfully neither of us got to this point, there was the option of pushing the elevator button and waiting. There is a commuter train less than 10 minutes from my front door and when we take it into the city, I refuse to take the elevator. There is a staircase approximately like climbing two or three flights of stairs. I still climb it, but I’m breathing a lot harder. John lives farther from a train station so all he has to do is climb into his pickup truck. On the other hand, he chops his own firewood.

That is that for this week. We wish you a beautiful official second weekend of summer (but who’s kidding who about that, it’s windy and 58 here),

Andy and John