Who’s wearing my genes?
Each year I become somewhat introspective on my birthday (rather than merely depressed), as I reflect on my life and what I have or have not become. This year it became apparent to me that the following genes remain absent or dormant in my genetic make up:
- The gene that enjoys waking up prior to 10am
- The gene that thinks pop stars have something relevant to say
- The gene that allows one to wear spandex pants with fur-lined Mukluks
- The gene that let one appreciate interpretive dance, tumbling routines and Disney on Ice
- The gene that drives one to own a dog equal in weight to a Ruby Grapefruit
- The gene that believes ruffles and shoulder-width lapels look good on females over three years-old
- The gene that lets males think women are impressed by cars with Hemis
- The gene that thinks couples should wear matching outfits in public
- The gene that wants to be tattooed without extensive forethought
- The gene that sets its TiVo up to record American Chopper
- The gene that desperately wants a televised theme wedding
- The gene that believes any philosophy of note can be gleaned from our nation’s bumper stickers
- The gene that leaves dinner on the stove on and then goes out for the evening
- The gene that blames its spouse for a nightmare it had the previous evening
- The gene that eats with its mouth open in front of others
- The gene that is responsible for putting outfits on unsuspecting pets
- The gene that wants to actively participate in employee pep rallies
- The gene that calls into Top 40 radio stations to deliver the “phrase that pays”
- The gene that leaves its cigarette butts on its friend’s lawn
- The gene that is certain all its friends all want to hear its poetry, rap or spoken word performances
