I don’t know if anybody saw this last week, but it’s a short read and made me chuckle.
“Welcome to Café Bistro, a restaurant with a name that will be easy to remember the next time someone asks you where you went for your birthday. We serve dinner between 4 P.M. and 7:30 P.M. Here, the lighting is always turned up and the music volume is always low, to facilitate menu-studying and discussion.”
Very funny. I’m in that in-between phase between my parents being that and me becoming that, so of course I have no idea what the author is going on about. None at all. 
Yeah, my vantage point is from just north of the forty yard line myself.
"Your Wife’s Daal and Basmati Rice
I don’t know why you even go out."
Indeed!
Reminds me of Brown Dog Cafe in Lake Placid, where the check is delivered in a cigar box with reading glasses inside.
Thanks for sharing.
I’m 50 and none of this applies to me, but I also didn’t come close to laughing at any point. Chacun a son gout.
Does it have to apply to you personally to be funny? I’m neither a dad nor 50, but we’ve heard and seen these types… in fact the bitching and moaning about too dark & loud restaurants was the topic of many a thread on the other site.
No. That it doesn’t apply to me and I don’t find it funny are two separate observations, separated by a “but”. 
Also, I don’t like restaurants that are too loud or dark, but I didn’t get that as the main point of that piece.
Hey, as you say, chacun a son gout, right? I understand.
The stark reality remains - very few people are as funny as me.
OK, I chuckled at that.
Because it was ungrammatical, or…?
That thought didn’t occur to me at all.
It did to me.
I found it condescending and mean spirited and I usually love Shouts and Murmurs (practically the only thing in the new yorker that I like, even the cartoons aren’t very good anymore)
now this latest one is very good 
Sometimes it seems to me that The New Yorker is kinda like Saturday Night Live - plenty of folks will always be around to reflect on how it used to be better. That’s cool. I actually understand it and would be lying if I said I hadn’t done it myself. Nevertheless, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, like a first kiss or taste of buffalo wings, even things that are good will always suffer from the absence of “initial magic”.
As to the “Dad” piece, I’m not sure I want to be a part of a world that can’t laugh at financially comfortable, retirement age, white, heterosexual men with their facade of old school manly courage spanxing in their trembling fear of a changing society. Well, . . . at least not until I’m one of them.
