One hand on the wheel....

 Aging is... can be... should be... fun.

One memento my grandkids left at my house is one of the old time metal lunchboxes, this one however, adorned with pictures from Pokemon. Within it, all the pill bottles I've accumulated from the very many $20 copays to my Doc - One pill makes me larger, and one pill makes me small, and the ones that mother gives me don't do anything at all.

Sorry, slipped into song. Within what should be, capsules full of the recipe to make me a 'right person' - is one that's a potion for combined stopping smoking (ha), depression and anxiety.  On a side note, I originally spelled 'potion' incorrectly, Googled what I thought was correct...nope, that ain't it.. changed a letter or two.. huh uh, not that either.

My phone is acting weird.  But, as I type on the laptop, I use my weird acting phone for help with anything that runs through my brain.  My phone is like a conversation with an 89 year old person.  When I use the speech feature on Google, it gives me this "huh?" like answer.  "I didn't understand." So, I said "dammit" to myself, and I guess it was still listening, because 'dammit' it understood and searched for it.  Dammit. I mean 'potient', however in the hell it's spelled.

So... my brain went straight to "I took my troubles down to Madame Rue" because I remember in there, somewhere, somewhere after relating she's got a gold capped tooth and pad down on Thirty-fourth and Vine, she sold bottles of, Love POTION # Nine. Jualah (if that's how you spell that)... my answer.

The reason I even include this - I've sat here for hours today, and maybe two days ago, and last week, and I'm having trouble coming up with anything that resembles happy, fun... for me, a goal in writing is for me to key some words that I, maybe pitifully patting myself on the back, that I envision you, the reader, reading.. then smiling at the computer.

Simple goal.  Happiness.  Should be anyways.

Today, as I sat getting sleepier and sleepier, once again trying to come up with happy, a lightbulb came on.  At first, I thought it was the light in my dining room.  There are two bulbs in it, one is on the fritz, blinks on sometimes, most times not. I am of the "when they both go out, I will replace them", ie, lazy.

The lightbulb was, yesterday I hadn't taken any of the pills within the 9 bottles residing in the Pokemon tin, "that's why I can't think happy."  I know 9 is a lot, but in my defense, one is a multiple vitamin, and another is a specific vitamin I bought one time for I can't even remember why.

Bottom-line:   Pill = happiness.

I ain't smart.. really I'm not. In high school once, the election for Student Council was coming up, no one had signed up to run for President, so my father told me he'd give me $50 to run. I did, I ran, I won. Kinda like Pat Paulsen without either Nixon or Hubert Humphrey running.  Anyways, the members of The Honor Society in our class (those with grade points at least a full point higher than my grade point) were allowed, when there was 15 minutes left in class, to stand, grab their stuff, and walk the halls until time for the next class. Good grades = reward.  So, I always got up, roamed the halls.  Teachers thought "well, he's STUCO President, he must be smart." HA, if they only knew.  Where was I...oh yeah:

If aging has taught me anything, it's that happiness cannot be completely achieved by a Pokemon lunchbox.

Given I ever find myself being in an unhappy environment, I leave, don't read the article, turn the channel, don't speak if I'm at a table with others...etc... (Example, people raved about the TV show "Ozark", so, I grabbed a beer, plopped my too big body in the used recliner I recently bought for fitty dollars (and tied to my trunk 'cause I didn't wanna ask buddies with trucks to help) and prepared to watch Ozark. Very first scene, hardly before any words were said, a lady was shot and killed. That was enough for me. I know, I know, I probably should have given it more time - but, aging has, thankfully, taught me to not allow unhappy center stage, or any stage for that matter.

Recently, I drove 506 miles (one hand on the wheel... damn, we were trying to figure out why you used that as the title) with two beautiful grandkids in tow. Bias, it's certain on the adjective beautiful, but it's certainly my take.

To attempt to keep the mood positive (the kids, age 8 and age 10, really do get along well, but come the moment they don't, it's like walking barefooted on a wooden floor and you get a splinter between your big toe and the toenail that sit's above it. That ain't positive.  Where was I?  Oh yeah:

I Amazoned two car games for kids. One was Bingo. A piece of cardboard with 26 squares that resembled Hollywood Squares, or, a 2020 Zoom meeting. This one though, didn't have the monotony of Zoom, nor did it contain Charlie Weaver, George Gobel, Rose Marie, et al. It had:

Pictures of a barn, a horse, a bridge, a police car, motor home, etc, etc, and as the kids were looking (positive.. no noise, fighting) they attempted to find all the items, 'close the window' to be the first one to say BINGO. The other game was similar... we were headed from Liberty, MO to Eureka Springs, AR.. and the games got us happily down to Joplin, MO. Oh crap, 89 miles to go. Thus:

Happy went to not happy. One of the grands, who shall remain anonymous, started getting grumpy - and this only happens once or twice a month.  When it does, it ain't fun, but it happens. Questions, negative questions..  statements.. negative statements... spewed.

I felt like I'd just grabbed a beer, turned on Ozark and that lady was shot. Twenty years ago I behaved like the beginning teacher I was, and flipped out. Raised my voice, my blood pressure, demonstrated certain stupidity.. and I threw gas on an already aflame negative situation. (My first year of teaching, playground duty, one of the snotnoses pushed another kid down... I called his name.. he didn't come.. so I walked toward him.. he ran... so I ran.. yes, sheepishly I did.. he ran in the building.. I ran up to the door.. he grabbed the bar thingy to keep me from entering...we're having a tugging match.. . finally, it donned on me, the reflection in the glass of the door, was a complete idiot.)

If there's anything positive among aging (I'm fatter.. I'm wrinklier.. I'm slower.. I now watch mostly documentaries.. my pillbox has gotten fuller) I've learned, it's I'll be damned if I'll focus on the negative in life.

So, as this rant of (enter normally wonderful grandkid's name here) went on from Joplin, to Cassville, to damn near the Arkansas border.. I collected myself (usually NOT me).. said his name (oops).. and.. calmly (usually not me) said, "I'm going to concentrate on the positive.  I won't reply to anything negative."

I squeezed my shoulders and prepared for, crying, yelling, beating on the seat his sister was in just in front of him, tossing him out around Beaver, AR (just kidding)... Instead:

Quiet happened. What?  Yeah, quiet.  It was perfect. Perfect the remainder of the three day trip. In fact, this cute little turd had a ziplock sandwich bag fulla quarters he'd saved up. He donated much to vending machines, but hey, we're on vacation.  I was sitting under and umbrella in the shade next to the pool at the hotel, he took his bag to the vending machine, ran towards me, handed me my favorite - Starburst, and happy immediately happened. He's truly a neat, neat kid (8 years old..)

So, the message to me, for me, you're welcome to ride along:  Pills won't do it, attending church weekly is wonderful, but that alone won't do it... the path to happy comes from within. We spend most of our life reaching for happy... better job, bigger car, three story house, cottage in the country, this town, that town, jogging, swimming, pills, even the ones from Alice when she's ten feet tall.. ALL won't make one happy.  Happy is simply a choice.  Like my grandson silently thought about it, and said to himself "Yep.. I got it now."

I can't drive with two hands on the wheel. I know you're supposed to.  You're lying to me if you say you always do. With one hand on the wheel I was able to turn slightly and see a beautiful, HAPPY kid, for 343 more miles.

Life is good, and, it's happy if we let it be.

Love, Victurd