Zack Hill by John Deering and John Newcombe for November 26, 2023

I didn’t care even when I DID know who they were

Reminds me of a quote from Ben Stein on CBS, back in 2005:

“Herewith at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart: I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I am buying my dog biscuits and kitty litter. I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores. They never know who Nick and Jessica are either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they have broken up? Why are they so important?

I don’t know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and I do not care at all about Tom Cruise’s wife.

Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I am a subversive? Maybe, but I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are.

If this is what it means to be no longer young. It’s not so bad."

If you don’t recognize who they are, they (probably) don’t matter …

… in your life (anyway).

…and relieved.

I used to spend Sunday reading the New York Times. They have (had?) a list of top ten songs/albums. I realised I was old when I couldn’t tell which was the artist and which was the title.

I haven’t cared since WAY before I got old. And that was a long time ago.

I don’t recognize most of the celebrities these days, so I don’t buy any magazines.

It’s more revealing that he doesn’t know what goes into that package of sausage going home with him, and doesn’t care either. Making sausage and laws have a lot in common.

I recognize some of them, once in a while, I think. But my mind must be failing because I could have sworn that they weren’t that sex before.

I’m with the old man. Don’t care. Just like my parents probably didn’t either.

Don’t care, couldn’t pick any of them out of a lineup, and really get annoyed when they waste time on them during a football game. I don’t even care about the players as actual human beings. The minute they step out of bounds they also cease to exist in my world.

Got that right. Don’t care…..

When I was young, I would occasionally recognize the faces but never did care.

My happy time in the checkout line was the B&W tabloid Weekly World News. Totally silly and I loved it. An adult Mad magazine.

At least there’s Archie. Sometimes.

I can tell I’m old because I was looking at magazines in the pharmacy the other day and I noticed the prices now range from $12 to $16.

The first intimations that I was getting older occurred when I observed that Playboy centerfolds were younger than me. In more recent years, it’s been the pop culture references in New York Times crossword puzzle clues, which I often have to google in order to finish the puzzle.

Didn’t care when I was young, don’t care now.

This might explain why women live longer than men. Men stop caring about celebrities a decade or two before women stop recognizing celebrities.