Decades

After 26 games of Sudoku, six “no replys” on a goofy online dating site, and 12 games of solitaire – my ashtray was full.. I was outta smokes.. to the car to replentish with my cheesy “I am a po man” pack of Decades. (Symbolic perhaps of this most recent decade.)

1 to 10, hella fun. Nervous days in Elementary school, as we moved 19 times in this period. “Hi, I’m Vic… oops, seeya!”.. Mankind still hadn’t grasped how to be kind to all man.. Rosa, God Bless Rosa, helped. But many, many strides to yet come. Fortunately, we kids were oblivious to color. In some ways, ahead of our time.

Vibrant, youthful, happy parents. The “first crush.” I personally thought Sue Harris was the bomb, ‘cause she could outrun ANYONE in our school, including Stanley Savage. Never told her. I guess that comes with being 10.

11 to 20, ohhhh transformation. Bodies aheada the brain. Tons of sports. Small freedoms early (riding bike anywhere u wanted in town).. large freedoms later.. Old enough to vote, serve our country – but sadly, by that time, not many wanted to. Viet Nam days were waning, yet a Lottery was held to give each birthdate of the year “a number”. Of course, #1 would go first… 365 last. I sweated and sweated and sweated – on my way to #236. Then, Peace happened. Thanks goodness.

High School – ohhhhh High School. It’s a lifelong bond kinda thing. Folks from the same era, the same small town. Trip to Mickey D’s this morning, I see this bright, vibrant smile across the way.. yep, that’s Gale Coe, he always wore that smile. “HI VIC!”.. “HI GALE.”. exchanged pleasantries.. and then upon exit “Is it just me Gale, or does time fly?”.. “Vic, time flies!”.. Nonetheless, catching glimpse of someone who’s shared the same time/same things you have/did, tis special – always will be.

21 to 30. Oh shit, I’m supposed to be an adult. We’ve come to an end of our “twenty years of play” – real life is ahead. Seemingly, every third weekend, another friend’s wedding to attend. Children even popped out.

Playing sports 7 days a week with bonified referees, uniforms, people in the stands – a thing of the past. Now, Sunday nights with buddies/pals. Still competitive, but, opponents shared a beverage after.

Pick a career? I must? How do I know, at age 20-something, how I’ll feel, what I’ll like at age fitty, sixty-something? (I’d list my resume here, but my printer is about outta ink… or… as my wondeful ex father in law termed it “That Victor, he’s a nice, nice man.. just maybe a little occupationally challenged.”!!!!!)

31-40: Parenthood. We’ve become the “Vibrant, youthful, happy parents” that we remember so well in our own household during our youth. Wow, didn’t know how hard, trying they had it. We must monitor/aid in safety, dreams, nurse/doctor, psychologist, chef, “bring home the bacon” literally/figuratively and even refereeing.. AND try to sneak selfish moments of our own time alone. Thank goodness for aunts, uncles, grandparents in allowing those mini-breaks from it all.

It’s routine now. Both the filled up calendar, the drive into the office, the evening family meal, bedtime – and weekends, yippee. We try to emulate our own folks in providing, role modeling – and perhaps a tad harsh on our age group, but those were big shoes to fill. We grew up in a wonderful era/time.

41-Fitty. Kids now becoming the age “Oh shit, I remember what I DID back then… DAMN!”… When you heard the engine start, the car leave the driveway – baby pitter patters of the heart in hopes of the return safely. Hopefully, a good job has been done in guidance, moral education.

What’s that? QUIET? Now whatinthehell do we do? We’ve been runnin’ for twenty years! Wanna slow dance? Make out? Nah, we just did that last week, let’s watch a movie. Ok, suits me. Besides, I’m on edge due to the lackaprogress of the IRA.

Fitty-one to present day. WHEN did I get those wrinkles in my arms that I see when I bend them? I KNOW this is the same damn house, but WHY does it seem so much farther to the damn bathroom? I’ve NEVER hadta run before!

At work, not so fond of when the boss comes around. See those I too was once "a young asskisser” – huh uh, nomme now. Just lemme do my job, and said politely, sir, can you just leave me the hell alone?

Toured The Kansas City Royals Hall of Fame the other day. Groupa mebbe fitty folks, didn’t look much different than myself, and my almost the same age cousin. Halfway thru, Guide starts asking “Who remembers back when(such-n-such) happened?”.. Cousin and I raise hands..look around.. no one else does. This happens, 6, 7 times in a row. It hit me. I’M OLD.

No matter where ya go, there’s younger turds ALL AROUND! They're EVERYWHERE!

Ahhhhhh, the grandkids. Nature does recycle itself, and wonderfully so. What’s that? She won’t stop crying? Ahm, darn, hope she cheers up/feels better SOON.. (SEEYA!)… And we drive away, leaving those vibrant, youthful, happy parents to guide, counsel, nurse, teach.

Aging does have a way of making one ‘appreciate.” I’ve written here before about being old, and onea those townies from the same era will say “VICTOR, YOU’RE NOT OLD!” The hell we ain’t. Fess up! Knowing that “ends one day will happen” actually gives us focus to stop, appreciate things we might notta stopped to appreciate, behold - back in those other decades.

This has been, admittedly, a bit of a trying decade for me, the old “oh crap, I’m single?” fart. Yet, driving to work the other day, heard “it’s official.. the household with two married parents is now in the minority” so methinks I ain’t the only one sailing solo.

61-70, I’ll work on this later, and I promise LARGER FONTS. 71-80, that would be a gift. 81-90, who are you and whyinthehell am I writing you?

Oh crap, I’m outta Decades… to the car for another pack. I hope you’ve had as much fun as I’ve had on this planet. I’ve enjoyed the rollercoasters within each and every decade. Some, sitting side by side with another, some - solo occupant. Life is fun, interesting, trying, engaging, wondrous, rewarding, smile worthy….

At least at this age, we’ve learned pulling ones hair out is of little worth… but then, at this age, we have a reason not to pull out any hair.

Life has truly been a gift. And, each day hereafter is as well.

Happy decades, love Victurd.