It's once again time for the annual Little League World Series, and as usual, ESPN loves to share the favorite foods, celebrities, and school subjects of participating 11 and 12-year-olds. One of them says he would spend lottery winnings buying the Boston Red Sox, which would have to be one hell of a jackpot. But it was another one that really got me thinking: when asked who he most wanted to meet, his answer was "my future self." Damn, kid, that's a monkey's paw wish if I ever heard one.

What tween is going to be satisfied with their adult form? Every pre-adolescent kid I ever knew thought they were pretty close to perfect, and why shouldn't they? Childhood is a responsibility-free zone, our parents live to tell us how great we are, and teen literature YouTube videos^[1] are full of stupid adults who crash every party, stamp out all the fun, and make stupid decisions that ruin the world. That last bit is far more accurate than most "adults" would care to admit.. Allow me to point out that the Hippies grew into Yuppies. Logan's Run may have a point.

So what happens when a kid looks at their future self and realizes that they "sold out"? In Back to the Future II, Doc Brown is careful to keep Marty away from his future self, who has become a corporate tool and a total loser. That's ironically funny to the audience, sure, because Marty spent the first movie being such a cool, confident teen that he made his dopey father cool by association; to see that Marty eventually becomes his father is obviously his worst nightmare^[2] and good dramatic structure. But if Cool Marty met Middle-Age Marty, as Doc Brown would say, that probably is going to result in the destruction of the entire universe. Or at least the local galaxy. In either case, Cool Marty's self-confidence is going to be badly shaken.

Obviously, I think I'd probably be a disappointment to my younger self. Sure, I have a better control on my temper, much stronger purchasing power, and I've read a whole bunch more books. However, I'm also bald, worried about my health,^[3] and live in a basement. I'm sure I didn't have exactly lofty expectations—I never wanted to be particularly rich or famous so much as I just wanted people to recognize how wonderful I am and then leave me alone—but how satisfying could it have been to learn that mentally I'll be largely the same anti-social, anxiety-riddled, selfish prick I was in the 7th grade (now with temperature-sensitive teeth and extra poodles)?

So do yourselves a favor, kids. When ESPN asks you who you want to meet, just say Shaquille O'Neal. Everyone loves Shaq.

^[1] According to the Associated Press, in Oct 2024 only 14% of school-age kids read books for fun anymore. I don't know what the percentage was back in my day; I've seen unqualified statistics that suggest it may have been closer to 50%, but I have doubts it was that high. Judging only by my own experience and how excited my coterie of friends always got for the Scholastic Book Fair, I'm inclined to say it was closer to 100%. But we didn't really hang around the baseball playing crowd.

^[2] Every kid's worst nightmare? Just me?

^[3] Seriously, the most memorable scene for me in Beverly Hills Cop is Billy telling Sarge about the concerning amount of undigested red meat in the bowels of a 50-year-old man. I'm trying, Billy. I'm trying.

^[4] Sorry about all these footnotes. I may have become a bit conditioned because the book I just finished seems to average one footnote per page... for over 400 pages. That book, by the way, was Eve: How the Female Body Drove 200 Million Years of Human Evolution, which is nonfiction anthropology about exactly what it says on the cover. Twelve-year-old Walter would *definitely* be disappointed in what I choose to read for "fun" these days.

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While following a link to the recently announced song that will be the theme for Peacemaker Season 2 ("Oh Lord" by Foxy Shazam), I noticed that YouTube has helpfully created a Mix, which they describe as "a nonstop playlist tailored to you." I always say I'm not really a music guy, so it's very kind of YouTube to decide for me what music I like.

This is the first 50 songs (eliminating duplicate artists) in my current Mix. Let's see how the algorithm did.

1. "One Night in Bangkok," Murray Head (1984)
2. "Original Sin," Taylor Dayne (1994)
3. "Maps," Yeah Yeah Yeahs (2003)
4. "Chaise Lounge," Wet Leg (2022)
5. "Owner of a Lonely Heart," Yes (1983)
6. "Mr. Blue Sky," Electric Light Orchestra (1977)
7. "It's the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine)," R.E.M. (1987)
8. "Breakfast at Tiffany's," Deep Blue Something (1994)
9. "Only Happy When It Rains," Garbage (1996)
10. "Teenage Dirtbag," Wheatus (2000)
11. "All the Things She Said," t.A.T.u. (2002)
12. "That’s Not My Name," The Ting Tings (2008)
13. "Got My Mind Set On You," George Harrison (1987)
14. "Video Killed the Radio Star," The Buggles (1980)
15. "Dancing Queen," ABBA (1976)
16. "You're the Best Around," Joe Espisito (1984)
17. "Do Ya Wanna Taste It," Wig Wam (2005)
18. "Loser," Beck (1994)
19. "Buddy Holly," Weezer (1994)
20. "Here It Goes Again," OK Go (2005)
21. "I Love It," Icona Pop (2013)
22. "You should be sad," Halsey (2020)
23. "I Ran (So Far Away)," Flock of Seagulls (1982)
24. "Head Over Heals," Tears for Fears (1985)
25. "Burning Down the House," Talking Heads (1983)
26. "You Can Call Me Al," Paul Simon (1986)
27. "Message in a Bottle," The Police (1979)
28. "Love Will Tear Us Apart," Joy Division (1980)
29. "Steppin' Out," Joe Jackson (1982)
30. "Mr. Roboto," Styx (1983)
31. "Daydream Believer," The Monkees (1967)
32. "End of the Line," The Traveling Wilburys (1988)
33. "Miami Dolphins Number One," Lee Ofman (1972)
34. "Paint It, Black," The Rolling Stones (1966)
35. "The Passenger," Iggy Pop (1977)
36. "Coming Up," Paul McCartney (1980)
37. "Steal My Sunshine," Len (1999)
38. "Groove Is In The Heart," Deee-Light (1990)
39. "Don't You Want Me," The Human League (1981)
40. "Blue Monday," New Order (1983)
41. "Take On Me," a-ha (1985)
42. "Come On Eileen," Dexys Midnight Runners (1982)
43. "In a Big Country," Big Country (1983)
44. "Cars," Gary Numan (1979)
45. "C'mon, Let's Do It," Gerhard Heinz (1977)
46. "Turn It On Again," Genesis (2004)
47. "Life In a Northern Town," Dream Academy (1985)
48. "Flash's Theme," Queen (1980)
49. "Roam," B-52s (1985)
50. "Breakout," Swing Out Sister (1986)

Wow. If I was picking songs for myself, that's not the list I would have made. I mean, if I only get one Genesis song, I'd prefer it was "Land of Confusion" with its overt Superman reference and kick-ass electronic drums. But I cannot deny that yes, that is all Walter Music. I have a real emotional connection to some of those.

I see where your head is, YouTube programmers: audio honeypots! Nostalgia captures eyeballs, even mine.

The one song on that list that stands out to me is "Love Will Tear Us Apart," which is fine; it's just not a song I ever seek out. (I don't recall ever even Googling it. Is it there because of "Blue Monday," the Joy Division/New Order connection?) I also find it interesting that despite including Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, and two Beatles, only three of the above performances are older than I am. Fun fact: As I type this in 2025, there are more surviving Stones (3) than Monkees (1).

In case you're curious, as I was: the average year is 1989, the median 1985, the mode 1983 (5). That sounds about right, as '83 was the year of Thriller. I still remember where I was when I watched the debut of the video on MTV (on a cabinet-sized, wood-paneled television with knobs!). We watched a lot of MTV in '83. We also watched a lot of Night Tracks on the TBS Superstation in the wee hours of Friday nights. That's what we had to do before YouTube, kids: stay up real late in the hopes that they would play our favorite songs.

And yes, I just listened to every song on that list again. Don't stop to ask. And now you've found a break to make at last. You've got to find a way. Say what you want to say. Breakout.

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Dad, reading my t-shirt: "I don't get it."

I tried to explain.

Dad, confused: "They made a whole band of dogs?"

Honestly, I'm still not sure if he was just fucking with me.

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Immediately after I say I'm running to the store to buy milk, Mom asks, "What are you going to bring back for dinner tonight?"

"I've made dinner for the past two weeks," I say. "So the question should be what do *you* want to make us for dinner?"

Mom didn't even pause before replying, "I guess we're going out to eat tonight."

By which, it has now been revealed, she meant that I was to order take-out. So now, in addition to my trip to the grocery store, I'm also making a detour to the local barbecue joint.

Me and my big mouth.

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Today, while researching how Ron Howard made the decision to quote the myth and not the facts of "Houston, we've had a problem," I realized that more time has passed since the release of the movie Apollo 13 than had passed between the actual events and the movie. By several years, actually.

I distinctly remember thinking about how long ago the JFK assassination was when Oliver Stone made his movie about it while I was in high school. That was just 28 years since the event. It's been 34 years since the movie came out.

And don't even get me started on how I thought the year 1955 was the ancient past when I watched a particular movie released three decades later in 1985, itself now four decades in the rear view mirror.

Obviously, both the past and the future are much closer than I thought.

There's nothing I can do now about my younger self's misimpressions, but obviously I am past due in reevaluating how I interpret the effects of the passage of time on living memory. Maybe the events in that galaxy far, far away didn't happen quite so long ago as I once imagined.

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You might think I'm kidding, but I really did just take this off the refrigerator:

Yes, those are cowboy boots with little jets in the heels. And no, there never was a time in my life when I wasn't obsessed with comic book super heroes.

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You might think that I'd select U2's hit "One" to be among my one word wonders, but that's not my favorite one-word titled U2 song. This is:

Lemon

(Full disclaimer: I'm not particularly a fan of U2. I blame that fact mostly on The Joshua Tree, which just could not be escaped in the late '80s. I'm wired in such a way that if something is really, really popular, I knee-jerk hate it. Sometimes I can eventually overcome that impulse, but with U2, especially after the string of uninterrupted market dominance running The Joshua Tree - Rattle and Hum - Achtung Baby - Zooropa - Pop, not so much. Even today, Bono still irritates me. I think the reason that "Lemon" is my personal favorite of their songs is mostly because of the word itself in the sense of "something that is unsatisfactory or defective." My jam is irony.)

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When I left the neighborhood this morning at 8 AM to take Dad for cataract surgery, there was a fleet of Georgia Power trucks restricting traffic at the entrance to my neighborhood. When I passed back by the neighborhood with Dad in the car 30 minutes later, they were still there. When we came back by 4 hours later, they were still there. I made a mental note to come home by way of the neighborhood's other entrance (which is technically an entrance to the adjacent development, but we share a connecting street on the back side).

But then, on the final leg of this trip, while thinking about where I was going to turn, I drove past the dental office about a mile up the street and got to thinking about how the young hygienist I recently saw at a different dentist's office talked so much that maybe hygienist schools teach students to always be agreeable to clients and prattle to distract them from the scraping and what a funny word "prattle" is and what its etymology might be and how rarely we use the word "prattle" except in the context of hygienists who talk too much and the They Might Be Giants song "Lucky Ball & Chain" except the word repeated in the chorus of that song is actually "rattling"... and then I turned into my regular neighborhood entrance where I usually do and saw the muddy tire tracks on the road and belatedly realized that I had intended to turn elsewhere.

The good news is that the Georgia Power trucks had already left.

The bad news is that I probably shouldn't be allowed to drive a car.

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For the first time in about three decades, I saw a new dentist today.

To be clear, I have seen a dentist at least twice a year for decades; it was just always the same dentist. I started seeing him when I was going to Emory University in the 1990s, and whether I lived in Atlanta, Athens, or Newnan, I still drove to Decatur to pay cash to have Dr. Joe Looper tell me I had new cavities.

Unfortunately (for me, not Joe), he decided to retire this year. Good for him. Even though he's a Tennessee Volunteers alumnus, I hope he enjoys all the time he's going to have on his hands supporting the Vols. I'm personally disappointed, obviously, but my only regret is that he didn't give me a little more notice. He retired barely three weeks before my next scheduled appointment. With all due respect to whoever bought Joe's practice, if I have break in a new dentist, it might as well be someone I don't have to drive two hours to visit.

So today I went to the practice that my father and aunt use, and it was fine. The young hygienist (who graduated during the pandemic from a local high school [that didn't exist when I was in high school] and sort of fell into training for her mother's line of work because she couldn't attend any colleges in person but enjoys being a hygienist, especially the flossing) was friendly and gentle (even during the flossing). And the young dentist, who has a dental degree from a non-SEC school, used a newfangled dental camera to review my aging radiolucent composite fillings before encouraging me to be more attentive to my coffee-stained molars. No cavities were found, and all things considered, the price seemed reasonable enough with their in-network insurance plan.

I have another appointment scheduled for October, but I won't get too attached. After all, I'm only going to have to find a new dentist in about 2055.

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Captain D's is currently running an ad campaign that should be considered a war crime. When my television starts chanting "Fish D'Lish," I have to drive for the remote's mute button before the repetition drives me mad (or madder than I already am, anyway).

Once upon a time, I heard Stephen Colbert suggest that the best way to kill an earworm is to sing a shorter earworm that "cannot loop." His example was "by Mennen" as sung at the end of Speed Stick commercials. John Oliver suggested the "Ricola" yodel, and that's the one that usually works for me. I've been singing "Ricola" a lot lately.

On a marginally related note, I've recently been playing with the Talkback accessibility option on my phone. Theoretically, I could use it to control my phone hands free, but I've been using it to read Wikipedia articles out loud while I walk the dogs. Today I listened to the story of the Second Peloponnesian War. I found it amusing to hear my phone insist on calling the Persian king "Xerxes Eye."

That led me to wonder what Talkback's narrator would call this website, which has a made-up name I brainstormed on a napkin in my first apartment in Athens. Everyone seems to get it wrong on the first try. To my surprise, the phone handled "wriphe" perfectly. (For the record, it's pronounced like "rife," which was Merriam-Webster.com's Word of the Day on Sunday, and I'm going to have to steal their explanation to be another tagline for this site: "Rife Wriphe usually describes things that are very common and often—though not always—bad or unpleasant.")

So of course you know what I tested Talkback on next. Hint: It rhymes with "dish o'fish." What can I say? Advertising works.

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