On Sunday, I went to see "Eurotrip" at the local $1.50 theater. (Quick review: it was better than I thought it would be, but then again, I expected extremely little). I asked for one ticket, and the very attractive female ticket seller, who was probably 19-21, asked me for my identification. Yes, that is right, my friends, she asked this 42-year-old for ID for an R-rated movie! Polls show that most people in their thirties and forties think that they look younger than their age and younger than people their own age, so I am not trying to toot my own horn here, but do I still get carded in bars every so often, yet being carded for an R-rated film is on a whole 'nother level of ego stroking!

What caused Athena --- the ticket-taker's name, according to one of my friends in attendance, because I was too flabbergasted to think about anything such as looking at her name tag --- to ask for my ID? "You didn't really think he was under 18, did you?!" one friend asked in amazement as Athena handed my driver's license back to me. He then asked her how old she thought I was before seeing my birthdate. "I don't know, seven? Thirty?" she said as she chuckled.

We both walked away, amused. Being males, we instantly began theorizing as to why she would have carded me for an R film. My friend's theory was that she wanted to check my age to see if I was dateable. Not allowing myself that much flattery, I espoused the theory that she occasionally checks guys' IDs to see their ages as a passive innocent-flirting activity. I would imagine that it can get pretty boring behind those ticket-sales windows.

Our 19-year-old friend then arrived, and we had him buy his ticket from her without her knowing that he was part of our group. She did not check him.

Did I return and ask her why she carded me? No, of course not. There are some wonderfully fun, unexpected moments in life that you don't question. You just take the moment, go with it, and walk into the theater. I will get much more mileage out of this story as is than if I asked questions.

Then I had a blast at karaoke Monday night, pulling off fairly good debuts of "Cat Scratch Fever," "Brown Sugar," "Ice Cream Man, and "Rip Her to Shreds." I was going for an entire evening of songs I had never tried before, but the DJ accidentally --- but quite serendipitously --- had "Anarchy in the U.K." ready for me, so I rawked it, much to the delight of a three-person table of punks who were new to the venue.

So the week has started well for me, and should only get better. Will that mean more blog entries? Hopefully!