... means the end of warm weather (and it wasn’t even warm this year in Southern Wisconsin—once again, global warming has let me down), the end of swimming (the only exercise I enjoy, although I’m not sure if taunting my son with threats of getting dunked counts as exercise), and the end of Big Brother (it is so depressing that Natalie is not only still there but is the current HOH, that it makes me want to tear off my shirt a la Jessie in disgust, only resisting out of fear of pulling my rotator cuff).

Perhaps worst of all, the start of fall brings about my birthday, which grows more and more depressing every year. It’s one thing to get old—after all, it’s sort of inescapable—but it&rs...

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