Kids, don't try this at the museum

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I hate the corporate, monolithic malling of America, where cretins behind registers are forced to say "have a nice day" (don't fucking tell me how to feel, OK?) while offering subscriptions to magazines and asking for phone numbers, and ringing up crap we don't really need (shitty movies that will sit on shelves, shittier music by prefab pop stars, phones with cameras, cameras with music players, TVs for cars, TVs that cost $5,000, et al).

...and then I got a new iPod.

Actually, then Christmas was over, which made way for my least favorite holiday, New Year’s Eve.

I do recall one funny thing from my college days from Dec. 31. One year four of us went to the Field Museum and played tag with plastic dart guns in the great halls among all the stuffed animals, mummy cases, and humans cut up in cross sections like steaks.

We pretty much had the museum to ourselves. A guard spotted us once and laughed.

Imagine doing what we did these days. At the very least we’d be arrested, perhaps even shot, no questions asked, and inevitably assumed to be terrorists up to no good.

And it would lead the TV news. Ah, my one shot (so to speak) at fame came before its time.