Another reason I'm getting old: My parents, today, celebrated their 30th - that's 30 years, folks - wedding anniversary. Thirty years! Wow.

Odd fact about this:

- They were only married 1 1/2 years before my older brother was born. That's pretty quick, I think.

What's amazing, to me, is that I vividly remember their tenth anniversary. Vividly, anyway, in the way that six-year-olds vividly remember anything.

The memory involves wood stolen from nearby construction sites, one hammer and lots of nails (operated by a six-year-old [me], an eight-year-old [my older brother], and a seven and 11-year-old [our neighbors]), a crudely-constructed wooden model, some red paint, and some white paint. And, on August 22, 1986, "The Love Plane" was presented to my parents.

I would say that The Love Plane is the best anniversary gift I've ever given my parents. I don't think that there is a second-best gift, unless two-days-late phone calls count.

Now, I wouldn't have remembered the anniversary were it not for my older brother, who called this afternoon. He also said, "But don't call them tonight - they're going to some spa or something." Now, had I not ignored my dad's call a half-hour earlier - "Remember to call your mother because, I'm not sure you know, but it's our anniversary." I ignored my dad's call because I was eating lunch, and because I was interested in the Sports Illustrated college football preview. I probably should've picked up.

This definitely is not as good as a phone call, but it's something. Congratulations, Mom and Dad. Pretty freakin' cool.

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Another reason I'm getting old: The Boy (three years younger than me) officially began adult work on Monday. Adult work. I think he has to wear a shirt with a collar, and he takes public transportation (from his own apartment) to a large building, and I think he even has his own banking account now. Amazing.

I was supposed to call him on Sunday night, but I forgot. (After all, a long day of golf-watching.) Then I figured I should call him on Monday night, but I got wrapped up in watching Singles on Cinemax On-Demand. (I enjoyed it more now than as a sixth-grader. The allure of Alice in Chains on the soundtrack induced me to see it in the theater as a sixth-grader. It merely qualifies, however, as "cute.") I would have called tonight, but I got wrapped up in watching Dirty Jobs at a coworker's house. His girlfriend leaves town Thursday, so it was "final hangout" night. Perhaps I'll remember to call him Wednesday.

I think the worst part is that he actually works during the day. This means no phone calls from me to him for no other reason than the fact that I'm bored at work and know he's unemployed and, therefore, probably unoccupied.

Anyway, pretty neat, I think, and he's to be congratulated.

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Job-related: On Sunday, I made reference to that resume I sent out to that local insurance company. Probably the biggest employer in the area.

Well, they called back on Monday. I didn't pick up, because I didn't recognize the number. I listened to the message, and called about an hour later. Voicemail. So I hung up, waited 15 minutes, and called back again. Voicemail. So I hung up, waited 15 minutes, and called back again. Answer.

"Your cover letter was really, really good. You really hit the right angle there."
"Thanks."

8 minutes of small talk. Successful.

"So, what is it about our company that interests you?"
"Uh. Um. Huh. I don't know. Argh."

15 minutes of her talking about the company.

"So, do you have any questions about the job, or what we do, or the company in general?"
"[Can't think of anything.]"

"Well, okay, then. Our timetable was to hire by the middle of September but, where we are now, it probably won't be until the end of the month. We're talking with a handful of people, and we'll try to get back to everyone about bringing you in for an interview by Friday."

Basically, small talk was good, real good. Everything else - bad. I don't expect to hear anything but "thanks for your interest," though I've been surprised before.

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Related, I got a call from another radio guy who was a colleague last year, the guy I went to visit when I had a few days off last month. Well, last month, he was in the process of setting up an interview for a Division One college basketball-baseball radio position. Earlier this month, I sent him a text wishing him luck when he was interviewing for the job. Monday night, he called to tell me that he got the gig. Awesome, and he starts in October.

Well, the main reason he called (other than to thank me for remembering when he was headed to interview) was to encourage me to contact his club about their soon-to-be open play-by-play gig. (His team's moving, and they're under new ownership, but he had a good relationship and was the frontrunner for the new ownership's radio position.) He'd put in a good word for me and everything, he said.

"Well," I responded, "thanks for the nice idea, but I'm not sure I'm cut out for the business anyway."

He told me that I was too good to stop and, suddenly, I'm thinking in different terms again. So the goal now becomes to reproduce a broadcasting-oriented resume and send it along on Monday. There's also a new team beginning operation in our league next year, and I'll probably send something their way as well.

I guess it's called "Exploring your options," or something. Gets frustrating at times, I guess.

Make a decision and go with it, pal.

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So, I think that I can officially be called a "sucker." A few months ago, while using my Discover card-related gift card, I accepted an offer to become a member of the Borders Rewards Program. While I didn't go as far as to keep the mini-membership card on my keychain, I definitely placed the full-sized version in my wallet (same pocket as the local library card and the Blockbuster card. The Blockbuster card hasn't been used since last November, but it's good to have, I think.).

I'm not sure about the perks of the Rewards program at Borders. There's something about getting some sort of cash back towards holiday season purchases. And I get a weekly email with a ridiculous title, promoting whatever major new releases are on sale. And finally, and most importantly, every time I spend fifty dollars in a month, I get a "Personal Shopping Day" that can be used in something like the next six weeks. On my "Personal Shopping Day," I get 10 percent off everything, no matter how many times I shop that day, they proudly trumpet.

A few weeks ago, I documented my three-CD, one-book Borders binge. I'll say that, honestly, I just wanted to buy some new music that day. My membership in the Rewards Program was not a factor. But, shortly thereafter, I received an email reminding me that, by virtue of the fact that I had spent 55 bucks that day, I had "earned" a Personal Shopping Day.

But, today, another three-CD binge. And, yes, I used my Personal Shopping Day. And, yes, I only wanted to actually buy one of the CDs. (The new Mountain Goats record, Get Lonely. He's my favorite.) Another (Band of Horses, Everything All the Time) had been on the "Well, maybe that's interesting to me, I guess" list for a few months, while the other (Belle & Sebastian, The Boy With the Arab Strap) has been on the "Everyone who loves indie pop seems to love this record, so eventually I should get it to raise my credibility" list for several years.

Point is, without the carrot of a ten percent discount, I wouldn't have purchased either. But, here it is, I've got three new CDs, two I didn't want that much, but I saved four bucks. Four bucks.

Borders, you win.

(More depressingly, I was pissed at myself when I realized that I had spent 39 bucks during the month of August. August, dammit, a month for which I've already earned my Personal Shopping Day. Should've held off until September, and then I'd need only 11 additional bucks for that month. Sick, friends, sick.)

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I really like buying the coffee at the local Shell gas stations. They've got those flavored creams (Hazelnut, Southern Pralines and Cream, Irish Creme, French Vanilla, yum), plus something called The Cream Machine. Pretty much, I've started using three sweeteners and three creams in a 20-ounce cup of mid-afternoon coffee to create the sweetest, most wonderful cup of coffee in the world. I do it about once a week, I'd say, and it makes my teeth hurt.

I strongly, strongly considered joining the Shell gas rewards program today. Buy ten coffees, get the 11th free, I think. Buy five car washes, get the sixth free. I don't know if there are gas-related perks. I then considered better of it, because it seems like the possibility of saving a buck every 3 months (coffee), or five bucks every 19 years (car washes) isn't worth aligning myself with one brand of gasoline via a keychain-sized membership card.

But maybe, just maybe, I'm missing out on some members-only sweepstakes. I'm not quite sure.

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When I purchased a half-tank of Shell gasoline at about 1:05 on Tuesday afternoon, it was priced at $2.98 per gallon. When I drove by at 6:05, it was down to $2.93 per gallon. I was pretty pissed. Had I earned rewards on the extra five cents per gallon, I would've been a lot less pissed.

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I was flipping through one of those direct mail coupon packets this afternoon, looking for a Buy One Get One (has anyone noticed that "BOGO" has entered the lexicon, at least in the ring fingernail?) to the restaurant that several coworkers and I were meeting at for dinner tonight. About midway through, there's a full-sized page that says, "Surveys show... Affluent Households Clip Coupons!"

Turns out, it was a business-to-business advertisement, essentially. "Rich folks look through this, and your company needs rich customers."

Makes a lot of sense, I guess, though I like it better as, "Hey, poor folks. Clip coupons and act like the rich."

I swear, I'll come up with something interesting next time. I swear. God, I hope so.