We, the Midwest, have been pelted pretty decently with snow this year. We, the OG's (old guys/gals, not to be confused with old gangsters) cry foul on road crews. You prissy commuters get ALL the dadgum highways wiped clean of snow by 6:30am, whilst we OG's must slip slide our way to the Piggly Wiggly on covered secondary streets around 10am. Tain't fair.
Speakin' o' Piggly Wiggly... we miss noise. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to stroll thru the quiet produce aisle at 10:30am without any rugrats in those stupid little cars attached to carts, repeatedly asking "Can I have....(this)...Can I have.... (that?)"... It's no wonder our hearing goes, we never hear any noises..
Exercise... Retirement makes us in no hurry. It ain't fair. Upon occasion I've had to go grab bread around 5:30pm...and I take my normal, decidedly slow pace thru Piggly.. You, however, have little Johnny in the stupid little car attached to the cart screaming "Can I have..." whilst little Susie runs beside hollerin' "Mo'om..WE'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SOCCER!"...so, you run. It's no wonder we get beer bellies, midriff bulge - you get all the exercise, we are reduced to take that slow pace.
Snotnoses. No, not the little ones.. you Big'ns.. Unsociable. As I'm writing my check at the Piggly, you toss all kinda dirty looks at me. You even gimme that "he's a felon" look when I ask the cashier for a pen because mine ran outta ink. Then, as me and Bertha (the cashier) do when I go there in the daytime - we gotta catch-up on family news... After she takes my check, runs it thru that spinner thing, I GOTTA tell her about cousin Nessie falling and fracturing her elbow up there in Des Moines.. DIRTY LOOKS you throw.. HEY whippersnapper, THIS is our Facebook, butt out (oh, and BTW, I think either you dropped the lemon juice, or little Johnnie peed his pants cause there's a trail of yellow liquid coming from your cart.)
We, OG's, conserve. We was learned by our folks who grew up in the Depression. So, I/we see absolutely NO REASON for you to get all bent outta shape likeya do when we take our stack of 20 Powerball/Lotto/Scratchoffs and hand 'em the the 7-11 dude at 7:30am for him to check 'em. Not my fault you slept in a tad, or had a quicky, and you're running late for work. "Oh? I won eight bucks? YIPPEE! Let's see... gimme one'a them "Money Clip" tickets.. and, ah, a couple of them "Quick hunnerds".. let's see, that's 4 left ain't it?".. "Ahm, no sir, you have 5 more to select.".."Well I'll be gol' darned, cool. Ok, let's see..two of them "Block-O's... one "10X Lucky"... How many's that?" "Six sir, you have two more to select." Right then, there, you purposely exhale LOUDLY as you stand in line right behind me. One would think they'd be happy for an old geezer that just won $8...ain't you got any old relatives?.. and, let's see, a "Money Tree" and a "$25,000 multiplier." OK sir, here ya go.
"Say, Mr. 7-11 dude, did I tellya about my cousin Nessie falling and breaking her elbow?"... "Ahm, no sir you didn't.. maybe you could step over here and tell me so I can help the person behind you." I wanted to say "You mean ole Huffy?" but I didn't, I/we was raised better'n that.
And I simply cannot fathom why all you young folks insist upon riding right on my tail when I'm doing 35 in a 45. I've got ma' dang turn signal on to alert you I'm turning right here in a half mile or so, can'tya see that? It's no wonder there's all these meds nowadays for High Blood pressure, Paxil, Zoloft, Ritalin, and AC/DC or whatever they call it whenya can't sit still.
You youngin's gripe and groan about what day of the week it is. I've noticed Mondays are your least favorite. You think you got it bad? We old'ns get super tired, super easy.. Why just last week I walked out the get the paper, barely enough energy to do so.. I thought it was Monday (your dreaded day) and low and behold it was Sunday and I hadta garner up extrey strength to p/u that dadgum heavy paper. Pffft, you think you got it bad.
“The trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off.” – Abe Lemons
Hump Day is your mundane ritual once you get halfway thru the week. Honey, we have Hump Day every day of the week. Well, at least those of us lucky enough to be mated.. and, jes' makin' sure the humpin's done AFTER the crossword puzzle is solved. I hear tell those single old farts call it Hmmmppphh Day.. and I understand most geezers wait to do that (you know, the Hump thing) around noon, cause they/we kinda sorta listen to the rhythm of the church bells, and naturally, twelve gives ya a little more time. You ever tried to make it thru all that commotion with just 7 bell rings? Uh huh, what I thought.
"Retirement at 65 is ridiculous. When I was 65 I still had pimples." George Burns
You, whippersnappers, get structure. You know exactly when coffee break starts (and ends).. you eyeball the clock closely to go to lunch at noon, return at 1, and not a minute before. Well, we, we OG's, we ain't got that structure. As such, we're penalized. Ya ever laid down at 2pm to take a nap, and ya wakeup only to find you've already missed 20 minutes of Ellen? Uh huh, you ain't got it so bad....you got dings and dongs and intercom notifications.. We go by the light outta the win'der...
And if your young'ns are out playing late at night, would you be so kind simply remind 'em we're extremely busy right before bed? Yeah, how so... Well.. we've got the 6pm news to watch...a jaunt thru the Bible, then we gotta read the daily quote from The Cat in The Hat. Yeah, like what does the Cat in the Hat say?
Well, yesterday it was a special note to us, bout us, retired folks:
I cannot see
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh, my God,
What can I do?
My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mood is bad
Can you tell?
My body's drooping
Have trouble pooping
The Golden Years have come at last,
The Golden Years can kiss my ass.
Welcome to the age where your secrets are safe with your friends... they can't remember them either.
When you stop living at work and start working at living: Retirement
Tell 'em you miss the office..and try not to laugh..
"Now Norman, I'm just popping in here to try on some shoes. What are you gonna do?"
"I'll go on Holiday to Spain and meet you back here."
Retirement... Twice as much husband for half as much money.
"WORK!!!!" Maynard G. Crebs
“Retire from work, but not from life.” – M.K. Soni
I've GOT to go now... I'm supposedta.. I'm supposetda... well, seeya..
By Henry Gibson, Sr.
Love, Victurd
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