The glaring sun thru the windshield was suddenly cut into two halves. Twas then I realized, uh huh, an eyebrow hair had gone South. Something wrong with this picture. Wild, stray eyebrow hairs that are commonplace with 50, 60-something men – and softball.
Oh well, whatthehell. Tell me – why is it, for 40+ years, them sumbitches faithfully grow “East-West”… then the moment that AARP card arrives in the mail they stray in every which direction, mainly South. I reckon, equivalent to the female saggin booby huh?
Said to a young, 20-something gal in the sauna who’d just finished swimming a ridiculous amount of laps… “So.. do you do those triathlons?”.. “Why yes I do.. in fact, I’ve been doing marathons too…. you?”…
Ahm, no. Sorry. Fitty-six here, softball is enough of a challenge. ‘Sides, I smoke… “Ohhhh, my mom is 60.. she quit smoking ten years ago, and now she’s a runner.. in fact, we just got back from Lincoln… I did a marathon, she did a half-marathon.”
I felt small – but then I realized… as good ole’ Buck O’Neill usedta say.. “I was right on time.”… My life is very far from perfect, but it’s me – I control the steering wheel, the gas, the brakes – and I have fun.
Life, “agin’ the grain” I’ve found is pretty fun. You must do it this way? WHY? You must conform. WHO SAID? You’re fitty-six, come on! (BLANK) YOU!...
Being single… in those moments other than when having both arms petting felines with their motors purring – I think about life a lot.
I think of conversations. Co-workers. Bosses. Friends. Family. Then, I finally deduct – it’s me that I converse with the most. Me, who I need to keep happy. Me who turns left, right, stops, strays. I’m not too much controlled by the clock.
Cousin sent a pretty nifty email. About an old Cherokee discussing with his grandson about a battle that goes inside all people. He said, 'My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.'
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: 'Which wolf wins?'
The old Cherokee simply replied, 'The one you feed.'
I dine from both menus – but happy to report, moreso from the good. It’s a choice. I control it. I slip. I fail. I dig back out. I smile. Others smiling feeds my heart. My emotions. My good.
Come to think of it, I gots some Injun blood in me. Ok, time to go. Not that the clock says so – it’s that my brain says so. I’ma thinking I’ve got ADHD, so if I know by now I’m bored, surely you’re zonked here.
Ain’t sure where I’ll go, but happy I’ll determine that. I might pluck me some stray ear hairs… or… I just might continue to let ‘em grow so when I get up to bat, onea them young punks on the other team will perhaps barf over it.
Feed the good. Understand you’ll dip into the evil, just don’t dwell. Both hands on the wheel of life… or.. I remember in the day whatshername usedta get sooooooooo pissed when I would be doing something else with my hands (lighting a cig, turning the radio dial, reaching for whatever) that I’d propel the wheel with my thighs. It’s my life, it’s my steering wheel, I’ll turn it however I wanna, whatever way I wanna.
I’m the baby, I’ve gotta love me. Love u too, Victurd.
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