The Brain Dribbles of a Mumbling Curmudgeon
I’m taking a deep breath and stepping out of the Geezer Closet to announce to all that I’m a Septugenarian. I’m not certain how this happened. I wasn’t born this way … it wasn’t an instant change … but this past Sunday, (Father’s Day, no less,) I awakened with newly acquired aches and pains, a ton of wrinkles and a strange compunction to scream at any hapless joggers passing my house to, “Get Off My Lawn!”
Though I’m continuing to experience new-found urges, (think early-bird specials at Denny’s,) I’ve also come to realize a few things that I’d like to share about aging - if I can remember them …
1. Age is Just a Number:
… but in my case, it’s a number I can’t see without my Walmart reading glasses. The day I turned seventy, I couldn’t help but scratch my head at the irony of life. When I was young, I eagerly anticipated growing older, thinking it would be sophisticated art shows, charcuterie boards, dinner parties and chamber music, but instead I find myself immersed in fried bologna sammiches and reruns of The People’s Court while my Willie Nelson 8-track plays softly in the background.
2. Aging has opened up a whole new world of discovery:
Becoming a Septugenarian has revealed a number of new “talents” that I heretofore did not posses. My being a licensed archaeologist has ramped to Super Power level. So far, I’ve discovered loose change in the couch (74 cents to be exact,) old candy wrappers, a half-eaten Tootsie Roll, (at least I hope that’s what it was,) a cat-hair covered candy cane, (must’ve fallen off the Christmas tree,) and a pill under the bed (I think it’s aspirin - at least I hope it was aspirin as I promptly popped it into my mouth.) I’m giddy with excitement dreaming of what other treasures and riches await discovery!
3. Snoring: A Supersonic Septugenatian Skill:
Patti’s beginning to wonder if my snoring, with all the “other” accompanying noises is some kind of weird supernatural manifestation. She’s convinced that I need deliverance and has hung a cross over the headboard. I feel bad, so for her upcoming birthday, I’m going to Dick’s Sporting Goods and picking up the best ear plugs money can buy, (I wonder if I can find a coupon?)
4. Retirement: (HAHAHAHAHA)
I retired the first time at the age of forty-seven. I hated it. I retired the second time at fifty-five. Still hated it. I’ve made up my mind that I’m never going to make that mistake again because there are still so many things I want to accomplish. My passion for God, life, learning, teaching and writing is unquenchable and even though I daily face the reality that I have much more life in the rear view mirror than in front of me, I’m nevertheless determined to keep pushing ahead, striving to fulfill the purpose and call that God has set before me.
Before I wander off to the kitchen, (where’s that prune juice?) I’d like to leave you with a few words of wisdom … or not:
Embrace every laugh-line and wrinkle. (Don’t get Botox - it makes you smile weird.)
Dance like nobody’s watching. (They probably aren’t because who wants to see “old people” jiggly skin?)
Never underestimate the power of a well-timed nap.
Act your age, ‘cause you look silly dressing and trying to act like your grandkids.
Then again, DON’T act your age and be an embarassment to your kids!
and finally …
Trace your scars for they are a part of your story and your story is worth remembering and retelling.