Continuing Education

Sure, I'd like to try to swat a line drive, round first base and try to stretch it into two.

Full court basketball might be nice.

6am to midnight traversing Highway 76 and all therein in Branson.

Instead, here I sit.  Older.  Mebbe too old for all that.  I'm at peace with that.

Three loads of laundry stare at me from the bedroom.  In my best single voice, "Honey, I'll get to that soon."

Soon after I sit and kill 3 hours listening to Classic Rock on youtube.  No lights on.  Quiet.  This is mebbe better than the high blood pressure meds I take.

Knock, knock, knock.. 'Ahm, you've got three, THREE loads of laundry needing to be done."

Stones, Eagles, Rod Stewart, The Beatles. "I'll get to them soon."

Leave me alone, I'm old, I'm tired - I don't work but Uncle Sam (er, Social Security) pays me anyways.  I choose time out.

I find listening more fun as I age. I find, when someone tosses a line at me, I have less and less urge to bite the bait (argue).  I find, if the urge hits me to make a smartass comment that will invoke a smile, I'm kinda sorta unleashed, and OK with that.  What better than laughter with whatever time is left?

It all usedta be about "what's next?"... What to wear to work.  Path to work.  Who's at, or not at, work.  What within that mess upon my desk would my boss like for me to do first?  Next?  Does the kid have anything today?  Need I hurry home from work?  Our plans?  Will we make it to payday?

Now, I sit.  And listen.  No hustle.  No bustle.  Damn, it's nice.

BRB, the 7 minute version of "You can't always get what you want" just came on.

Rome, Paris, London, St. Thomas, Cancun...even Cooperstown, DC, San Diego - sure, all would nice.  For now, I sit.  Sometimes you get what you need.

Today, it kinda feels good to get caught in the rain.  I don't even cuss (much) if the Newspaper guy forgets to deliver my paper two days in a row now.  Uh huh, no fun paying $2.50 + tax today at the Piggly Wiggly for today's edition that ya already paid for - but it is what it is, scroll back to the high pressure point.  Not worth it.

I have no idea who is here, what you are wanting, or even more, what I want to say.  I think what I'm trying to say is this getting old ain't bad.  We're born a 78 speed record, morph into a 45 - then ride it out as a 33.  You tailgate, stress, hurry, no looky at the scenery, mile a minute, regret blurts, bury your head in your Dayplanner....

Nomme.  I'm chilaxin'.  I stress, less stress.  Your check engine light is gonna come on.  Your back (shoulder, hip, knee, foot, yada) is gonna hurt.  This life palette infronta us, it ain't always gonna pan out as we wish.  It is what it is.  Age teaches not flipping out, flipping the lights off instead.  Breathe deep.  Chilax.

Bowie and Mercury are singing "Under Pressure."  Nice song, but huh uh, no more.  The mirror tells me these lines on my face are deep enough.  When I shave and swipe the shaving cream off, it takes two swipes as much is left in the crevices.  Tis OK.  Earned em. You too.

I do wholeheartedly subscribe to the advice "If you don't move, you die," but like the laundry, there's a time and a place for that.

No takey this the wrong way, but much of our life is spent in doing for others.  (ie, no pats on the back, we all, as parents, workers, yada, do that.)  Today, this age, is just damn peachy to think of one's self occasionally and spoil the hell outta your own bad self.  Grab that cinnamon roll, I'll treadmill it later.  Search, play that one song where the gosh darn sax 'talks to you.'  Close the eyes.  Smile.  Relax.  Chilax.

I ain't no preacher - but I wanna tell you I'm finding complementing others is better than sex.  OK, maybe that's a stretch, but damn it feels good, TO EACH.  One can forget much that goes on in a day, but when we're complemented, we smile as we groan our old bones to bed - remembering how good what was said made us feel. how thankful we are for the person saying that.  So, I try to, more.

Life is a continuing education, but with old age, what better, there ain't no lesson plans, no curriculum.  OUR. OWN. PACE.  Again, I no profess to be a professor or a preacher or a look at me, do as I say - I'm simply finding, as I age, the stuff important to me now is:  treating others nicely, treating one's self nicely, no getty in a huff... have smiles, make smiles.

I gotta go.  Laundry Victor?  No..  pee.  There are still little tidbits of stress even with aging.

Have a fun day.  Catch someone doing good.  Have smile.  Make smile.  Be a smartass.  Chilax.  Buy yourself something (and your grandkids two things).

Go to Motel 6-teefivesomething.  We don't leave the light on, we turn it off.  Close our eyes.  Meditate.  Feel. Feel good.  Chilax. Thrive in how good this learning to be old is.

Love, Victurd