Carpe Diem......

“Used as an admonition to seize the pleasures of the moment without concern for the future.”

I'm a simpleton. First year'a college, 1.6 GPA. Sure, living in Maryville, MO, having on-again-off-again girlfriend back home contributed, but, admittedly, I ain't book smart. So, no laughing allowed when I say I Googled “Carpe Diem”.........

Far out. That sentence up there OOZES of the feeling of this age, the now, the compilation of yesterdays, the uncertainty of tomorrow – so, “by golly THIS is gonna be a good day, I don't care what you say!”....

In earlier/younger days.. usedta compose a list of “Have to's” weekly. Fix the wobbly dining room chair.. the damn drip in the bathroom faucet... City Spring cleanup – get ridda that stuff you ain't touched since '78... reopen the budget spreadsheet – fine tooth comb.

Huh uh. Not now. I'm old. Hopefully with young brain, but I'm old. Seizing moment. “Have to's” are things like bodily functions. For example, at the Piggly Wiggly tonight.. Fast pace to men's restroom. Damn snotnose right infronta me. Worked there. I just know the little turd was sneaking a cig in there 'cause he took FOREVER. Proud to report, I am STILL very adept at 'the pee pee dance.” Old, young brain, some tap-dancin'.

Plan the day? The weekend? Nah. Too stressy. Que sera sera (uh huh, you guessed it, Googled it. Originally spelled it kay cira cira, Google asked me if I meant “que sera sera”... God Bless Google.

Victor, you really should clean the damn house. No thanks, instead, I think I'm gonna do 4 Sudoku puzzles, play 37 games of Solitaire, diss 5 or 6 friends on Facebook, and forward 12 reasonably funny emails. Carpe Diem baby, Que sera sera.

Which (aging) reminds me. Why is it, as we age, we shrink - yet, the GD (gosh darn) shoelaces seemingly get farther and farther and farther away monthly?

Work: someone says “you really should.............” You stop, think inside.. “bite me.. I've worked here __ amounta years, please go do your own GD (gosh darn) job, and lemme man the steering wheel here as – you're driving me crazy.” With advance apologies to any ex-inlaws that may swing by, but it really pisses 'em (co-workers) off if I say “thanks Marilyn, but I'll call the shots on this.”

Aging makes us fall in love with the sayings “because I can”... “watch me”.. “that's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard”.. and “sorry, I don't wanna.”

Aging is hitting the snooze button however many damn times you wanna, even if you're in a situation where it may mean taking a shortened lunch 'cause you're late. Aging is sitting at the damn computer – realizing it's (oh shit) 11:30pm, and your alarm clock is due to go off in 6 hours – and......... you don't give a rat's ass! The fun you had from normal bedtime until now otherwise woulda been lost forever in REM's... you lived! You did! Without concern for the future!...

Aging is growing up in a wonderful nuclear/extended family. Having them as friends on the site Facebook, and risking them being aghast that Velma's boy would actually type the 'd-word', the 's-word'.. and I think once I even saw the 'f-word'... and... you think.. “I'm old. It's me. I love them, they know that, and I'm human. They won't hate me (I don't think.)”

Aging is loving seeing younger folks go thru the stuff you did. Kids. Work ladder climbing (or attempting to).. Dealing with us older turds. Trying to understand why us older turds can be so grumpy. (With our hideous Midwest weather, Tuesday morning my car wouldn't start... wind chill somewhere between 0 and National deficit. Gas line froze I think. I got three candles out.. opened hood. Strategically placed them where it wouldn't catch the car on fire – closed hood – went back inside for more Sudoko, Solitaire, dissing friends on FB, forwarding stupid/fun emails. (Aging also includes looking at a paragraph, thinking “it's too damn big, but if I start a new one, they may get lost.”... then rethinking.. “I don't give a rats -whilst I do love them, I'm here for me. Hitchhikers welcome.” So, jualah, new paragraph.

Hi, how are you? Wherethehell was I? (Another aging thing.) Oh yeah, the candles under the hood. (Yes, sadly true).. Cha-ching, basta fired right up some 30 minutes later.. Rolled into work, albeit 30 minutes late. (This bothers one less as we age. “By God, it's friggin 12 degrees below zero, feel honored I even made it in!”)...

Victor, you're on your 3rd paragraph and you've yet to explain the old/grumpy connection... Ok, thanks Marilyn.. So... the candle/frozen gasoline day.. lunchtime, I go to Advance Auto.. purchase a thinga “Heet”.. A DOLLAR NINETY-NINE!... “Why, back in my day, I can remember buying that crap for fitty-nine cents!”.. I think I repeated that story twice that afternoon, but that's ok, 'cause that's onea the great things about aging, we can do that shit – be repetitive. People normally don't say “we know, you told us”.. they're polite (because we're old), they listen.. and we brandish the story each and every time as if it's the first time outta our mouth.

I'm rambling. Sorry. Kinda. But too, I'm old. I/we old folks do that. What's more, we don't care if you care. It's like what we related to Charlie Weis, the Chief's offensive coordinator who upset the apple cart and announced he was leaving two weeks before our playoff game: “Don't let the door hit you in the ass.” (Sorry relatives, I've added the A-word to the list. My bad.)

Old age is wunnerful. Young punks say stuff that might peeve you off, but, you realize you're too slow to catch 'em in a foot-race – so, water offa duck's back. Who cares?

I may go to bed now. I may play Sudoku, Solitaire. I may go flirt. I may go clean the kitchen (HA!).......It's my hope, as you age, you think it's the rage too. Love, Victurd.