We were preparing to have an unbirthday party.  I went to go purchase bubbles for the kids.  Kids like bubbles.  Bubbles are simple.  I love simplicity.

I was having one of those slightly off days.  A day where the sun is shining, I have everything in the world to be happy about but, there is something I just can’t seem to put my finger on.  On days like that, it is the little things that finally get me.  I will crumple up a piece of paper to toss in the garbage can one foot away… and miss.  For some reason, that’s what causes me to snap or curl into a ball on the floor.  Go figure. 

So there I am in the super-mega-no one has anywhere else on Earth to be store to find bubbles for the kids.  I’m standing in the ‘bubble’ aisle staring at the latest barrage of bubble guns, canons, jugs of bubbles with a five foot diameter wand, a $40.00 frog that comes with batteries and blows bubbles as his mouth opens and closes and some box-like contraption that you can add different food coloring to in order to make multi-colored bubbles.  I didn’t yell.  I should have yelled.  It would have been funny.  Instead, I screamed in my mind as loud as one can before it turns into audible sound:

I just want fucking bubbles!!!!! 

I’ve never been a “good ol’ days” type of person because I’m not 96 and don’t remember when chocolate bars were a nickel but on that day, I was that guy. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love technology and I think it has tremendous potential to make things easier for us (although everyone seems to be more over-worked than ever).  I just think that we create too many choices for ourselves and it drives our cultural anxiety. 

I did find the bubbles I was looking for but then spent the rest of the day in a wide open field blowing bubbles into the wind in order to calm myself down from the experience of looking for bubbles.