Parents, right? Unless you’re an orphan, in which case, dramatic destinies of greatness, right? But if you have the parental units, don’t you wish they came with fine-tuning knobs? “Okay, let’s turn up the interest in movies, turn down the guilt and adjust the level of Facebook interaction to somewhere around zero.” Or how about installing a mute button? Don’t get us wrong; we love some of our parents. We’re bound to feel awful once they’re gone or so they keep reminding us. It’s just that these people don’t seem to realize we don’t need them in the same way we used to when we were young and dependent on them for survival. We can feed ourselves now. We pay our own way. We’re getting pretty good at either making moral and ethical decisions or avoiding them with large amounts television. It’s not necessary for Mommy and Daddy to be so involved now, though having the laundry done for us again might be nice. Parents need to figure out that we’re like cats: we’ll come to you for affection and attention in our own time and on our own terms and you’ll be ever so charmed by us. Parents, on the other hand, with their need for regular attention and vague desire to help in some way, are more like the dog you leave with your brother when you move. The brother you’re still speaking to, of course.
What Makes A Good Party? According to the experts of 1950, you need a gaggle of squeaky chicks that like to hold planning meetings and arrange hook ups for gang noobs. Not to mention mixers and enough food to feed the men and the one heavy girl. But will that be enough? Will it!?!