I follow this guy on Twitter. He is always saying something about this unbelievable bar or restaurant or some other “peak” experience he is having as a start-up entrepreneur, innovator and computer programer. He is feeling his obvious success and expressing his joy and enthusiasm in sophomoric simplicity and transparency. I rather enjoy his reports.

Now and then he shares some tidbit that is actual information in which I am interested and for that reason I don’t “un-follow” him. But here is the thing: He is always touting some top of the line venue or city as though he were stringing for the New Yorker of some other life style periodical.

He says things like, it’s a perfect day in this drop dead bar on the North Beach in San Francisco. Like it breaks my heart that I can’t be there with him. Know what I mean? Then, he says, it’s a perfect day in New York! My oh my God. This guy can be on one coast and then the other and I am stuck in the Maine countryside. By the way, it was a perfect day here too.

You never see where some person of interest is thrilled and excited to be in Windham, Maine. Or perhaps enjoying a thrill a minute weekend at this swanky bar in Edgecomb, Maine. Or Poteet, Texas for that matter. Yes there’s a Poteet, but I am not that certain, now that I think of it, about a swanky bar in Edgecomb.

There are some glamorous spots around the country and to be there and perhaps to be seen there can be considered the pinnacle of social achievement. But who cares? Open your laptop or break out your iPhone and go online with the event so that all those poor souls who are stuck in Caratunk, Maine or Silsbee, Texas or Saugus, MA can have a chance to feel sorry for themselves since they are not sitting on the dock of the bay with a martini in hand while the sun sets in the Pacific.

Now here’s the point: ( I knew you were wondering about the point ) there are some places, NYC being the most celebrated one, that have absolutely too much power to mold one’s appreciation of life. Who gives a Flying Wallenda that you are in NYC or San Francisco sitting on the dock of the bay? OK, I know the answer. Millions are interested. It’s just that I am not. I’ve dined at the Stock Yards in Ft. Worth, Arnaud’s in New Orleans and Cook’s Lobster House on Bailey Island Maine. I’ll take Cook’s any day. Sour grapes? Probably. I’m just not a big city kind of guy. Did I actually say, “Stock Yards?”

I know I am in a tiny minority here, but it’s my tiny minority, and I like it. So I have probably revealed more than I intended but there it is. I am not impressed with glamor, glitz and the goddamned noise that seems to go along with it. Then it came to me. it’s the age thing. I have finally ( not too enamored with that word ) reached the old curmudgeon phase of life. Sorry, but I like it.