I like going downhill just fine.

“On the downhill side.” Pardon me, but.. doesn't one go/move faster when going down the hill? Ain't it more exhilarating? Aging is wrinkly, sure – but there's a lot to look forward too on the ride. As one goes, anywhere, much more time to observe... see... it ain't so much a race any more to GET THERE. Relax, kick back, learn s'more if ya want, don't if ya don't wanna...

I love watching moms/dads in the aisles of stores as they attempt to sequester their young'ns.. Upon occasion, I can almost hear them thinking “yes, that passionate lovemaking was awesome, but THIS is what we get for it?”.. After a bit of (repeated) consternation tween mom/3 year old the other day I even heard “God.. I sound just like my mother.” Hehe. Haha, I'm going downhill, I ain't gotta keep 'em in the herd. I ain't gotta fling/wing them frequent “No”s! I'm aging... see my wrinkles? Watch me go down hill.......... WEEEEEEEE!

Laughter. Comes easy at an older age. We possess the ability to laugh at ourselves. Aging has taught us 'pride is hard to swallow, but it will go down.' “Chores” nowadays are: tying our shoes.. getting in and outta the damn car... using a fourth'a tanka gas to find a spot no further than 3 spaces away from the Piggly Wiggly door – and laughing about it all as we do.

The excitement of observing youth is a both a sedative and an upper. I could observe my ten month old granddaughter all day – and dote in her quest to learn this, feel this, taste this, go here, back there, up there, down there... learn.. she wants to learn. Have some fun baby... going uphill is a blast too.

Racing downhill as we age, I've found oft times we need to visit 'the facilities' with more frequency, and with occasional panic. We've memorized exactly where the squatters are at WallyWorld, on 291 Highway... and the dreaded “redlight row” of 152... and exactly how much time it takes to get from Flintlock to the closest restroom door. How many paces it is from notions, to the W-World restroom.. Our bellies speak to us, remind us, impel us.

Speakin' o bellies.... I've found it's harder'n harder to pass up goodies, treats as I go downhill.. Yum. Look at me in the mirror wouldya? A bit of a belly budge.... Some creases in the face, forehead.. what the hell is one more donut gonna hurt? Halloween candy on the cabinets at work. Yum. Hurry up and get the hell outta the way Jane, that Snickers bar is MINE! Eh, I'll walk it off later.

Smiles... seeing.. giving... they are no longer for “in passing”... they're for treasuring. Blinders are off going downhill... No grocery lists to fret over... no worries about “is the soccer uni clean?.. paper in the printer for their homework?...what time is it? What's next.? Am I forgetting something?.. we getta stroll at our leisure, stop when we wanna... stay however damn long we wanna (or don't)... yes, I'm enjoying this downhill ride.

Trick or treat. Yes, we do that as old farts. Young punk at work pranked my voicemail the other day. HA! Game on woman! Do you have any idea how many 'wav' files show up on Google? I too love the chance to offer the “must be an ID ten T error..” at work when asked a fairly stupid question. Huh? (They ask... “ID ten T error?”)... sure.. write it down.. or here, lemme write it for you: ID10T error.

Treat. Old farts treat. Pay it forward I reckon. I must look pity-full... in the last year I've been given: a leather sofa, chair, Ottoman.. washer/dryer.. oodles of very, very nice hand me down clothing..Royals tickets.. in an hour I leave for MU, 2 sixty dollar tickets and a parking pass, yippee.. Next Sunday night, 2 tickets for the Chiefs game. Damn - people are nice in this downhill thing. Little looms large in aging.

Mr. Buck O'Neil, as he went downhill... for obvious different reasons, phrased oh so perfectly “I was right on time.” Would I like to be 20? 16? 35? 40?... tyvm, but I'm very happy, comfy with this downhill. I LOVED those ages – and thanks to them, I is who I is now – and I gladly trade the wrinks above my mouth in memory of those fun moments then.. and now, alla the ones ahead... Downhill, pun mebbe intended, is a gas. Grab your skateboard Ethel... this downhill stuff is the bomb. Love, Victurd.