Cruisin' and MNF

I fear we've lost the ability to be alone with our thoughts.

This morning, while driving down Guadalupe, I spotted a co-ed (I know she was a co-ed because she had on those workout shorts with the white stripes down the side) doing all of the following, in no particular order of importance:

- Texting (seems kids these days are highly textually active)
- Listening to her Ipod
- Talking on the phone (a technological trifecta, no less)
and of course...
- Looking neither way before crossing the street

Note: The fact that I was driving down Guadalupe should not be mistaken for 'cruising the drag,' an art I perfected from 1984-86 in Odessa. This activity, head scratching in hindsight, involved piling 4-6 people (okay, dudes) into a car and heading to 42nd Street, where said vehicle would proceed with the following social ritual:

1. Coast around the Pizza Inn sign.
2. Hang a right on to 42nd Street.
3. Proceed (very cool-like, I must add) approx. 3 miles, during which you saw how many people you could either:
a. Flip off - friends
b. Wave to - girls
c. Grudgingly (and, again, very cool-like) nod at - rivals

4. Hang a left on to West Country Road, then an immediate left into Sonic.
5. Coast around Sonic. Repeat step 3.

(Occasional breaks were taken either at point 1 or point 5, where passengers would swap cars and repeat steps 1-5 until a point in which a desirable 3b could be located.)

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The Cowboys' Monday Night victory over the Eagles further confirmed two things in my mind:

1) Now on the brink of 40, I can't stay awake past 11a on a school night. I would be charged an extra $50 by American Airlines for my bags if I tried to fly today.

2) Somewhere up the family tree of Tony Romo sits Hermie, the disillusioned elf from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer who really wanted to be a dentist.