Chapter 69

“Yeah, we are.” But that was changing, too.

“Hey, I wanted to show you something on the Internet. Can we use your computer?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“You’ll see.”

A few minutes later I stared in horror at my monitor and shook my head vigorously.

“No way in hell,” I said, unequivocally. A man’s garish profile grinned at me while Chester tried to convince me to participate in online dating.

“Why not?” he prodded.

“The guy has red, white, and blue stripes in his hair. He looks like a patriotic skunk.”

“Like you can talk with your thinning, shoulder-length, blond hippie hair and seventies sideburns. Neil Young would like his hair back.”

I now regretted watching all those documentaries on the History and Discover channels with him when he was younger.

“Funny. I don’t see why I need to change anything.”

“For one thing, Carl, your hairline’s receding. And another, it’s 2014. No one wears their hair likethat unless they’re a part of Greenpeace.”