Say it isn’t so. After a rather lengthy run of blogishness where I may or may not have talked about other people, I’m thinking it might be time to talk about myself. Maybe. Possibly. I do have a not so secret secret that needs sharing, although until I actually saw a news segment about it, I really didn’t understand how twisted it is. I have a waterbed. The 70’s kind of waterbed that sloshes around, occasionally leaks, and takes a bit of athleticism to get in and out of. I’ve had it for forty years, which now does sound terribly creepy, even to me. The dirty, dark secret, however, is that I still love it. It cradles me, rocks me, warms me, conforms to my perfect body, and never needs a sleep number. There are lots-oh-fancy mattresses out there now that promise a good nights sleep and no achy bits. Which for the price should throw in a hot rock massage and a stud to deliver it. Nightly. Hmmmm. Ok. Back on track. Since I know you all had one at some point, or frolicked on a ‘friends’ (air quotes and an ahem) why did you give up the good life? I can’t be the only one that still indulges. And no back pain. So on this news segment they were actually interviewing a Boomlennial woman and her dearests and wee dearests like it was some weird, novelty item. I would have felt ok about the feature if the owner had more teeth and didn’t also have my exact frame and dresser. In my defense, I did change the hardware on the dresser a few years ago, and got the black burn marks fixed. When they said ‘fire sale’ it was no joke. There you have it. I’m sure it will make a comeback, especially once my millions of followers see that not only is it ok, it’s amazing! Just needs a lava lamp, some black light posters, and that stud with the hot rocks….