If I could act so smart or look so good, I'd be at the Beverly Hilton Hotel instead of in my living room in New Jersey.
But I do understand the impulse. Everyone wants to be part of the conversation; everyone wants to feel special.
Look at me…
But, really, is there anything I can say tonight that will add to the show? On Twitter, there's always someone who has posted my thoughts, with faster fingers and even more attitude. A deeper search reveals that even my quick-witted virtual friends have expressed something that has been expressed many times before, in many variants… proving that, really, we’re all more the same than different.
I asked my wife about this today. We were parked outside of a Starbucks, waiting for one of our daughters to emerge with a coffee. I kept doing double-takes while I waited for her, because I kept seeing other young women who looked or dressed exactly like one or the other of my daughters.
My wife, who — like Ron Swanson — is wary of social media, said this: "I know I'm not special. And it’s OK. It's not always bad to be like everyone else. We all want to feel as if we are part of something larger than ourselves."
She’s right. Tonight, I’m going to put my phone and computer down. I’ll just be a guy in New Jersey, trading comments with his wife, while we both enjoy the show.
