Little Things are becoming More Important

Or it could be that’s all the energy I’ve got…

Maybe it’s just my senility kicking in but I’ve noticed that a lot of the good things in my life are really pretty simple and basic.

I’m probably getting a little more simple, too of course. In addition to my worldwide adventurous life (in my fantasies, anyway) I find that I enjoy:

• Taking a long walk with my wife (and maybe a dog or grandkid or friend from time to time)
• Sitting in the hot tub and sipping a hot mug of coffee at six in the A.M.
• Petting my pesky cat while she’s snoozing on my lap and I’m watching TV
• Nodding off in the recliner for an afternoon catnap – which doesn’t happen nearly enough
• Reading a trashy detective novel for a couple of hours of brain dead time

We still spend time with kids and grandkids, travel, go to concerts, jeep through the desert, and camp out in the mountains – we enjoy every minute of it. But the everyday low key activities (or non-activities) are probably just as enjoyable – and a whole lot cheaper. That’s got to be an upside to getting older.

axman

How Terribly Strange…

...to be seventy

With apologies to Paul Simon (Old Friends from the Bookends album 1968 when I was relatively young); it IS terribly strange. Never in my wildest dreams and fantasies did I ever imagine being seventy. Not that I planned an early demise; but being that old just never seemed real or important.

In my younger days (see, I sound old already) many of the seventy-year olds I knew seemed decrepit, senile, and sometimes couldn’t even care for themselves - at least it seemed that way to me. Just like my kids and grandkids think of me now – at least sometimes. Certainly not all septuagenarians are frail, but numbers count – retirement age, Social Security, and Medicare are based on age and mortality tables. The government is betting we die before we collect very much. Ha! I'm already collecting!

Various and sundry body parts don’t work as well as when I was a mere 50 or 60 but I’m still able to walk and chew gum at the same time – if I’m real careful. Strangely, I don’t feel old (except for those sore knees and arthritic hands and a slipped disc or two). I’m almost always able to find my way home from the grocery store; but just in case there’s a problem I carry a GPS in the car with a Go Home button. It doesn't hurt to be prepared.

When do I start feeling really old? When did you? Let me know. Tell me twice; I’ll probably forget the first time.

axman

Moving On – More or Less

No, not moving on to a better world; just a better location. Maybe this 26th move will be the last one…

We’re moving in a month or so – lots of people move every day so it’s not really a very big deal. For the past 19 years we’ve lived in the same place. We didn’t plan it that way; it just happened. That’s a record for us. A quick count in my head (always open to review) came up with 26 different places I’ve lived during my life. There may have been more – the 60s and 70s are kind of hazy. Sometimes it was only across the street and sometimes it was 2,000 or 3,000 miles.

This time it’s only seven miles. No big deal geographically. But it seems like a major event. Maybe it’s just that we’re older, sicker, and more tired. And there’s a few tons of junk to deal with – do we trash it, garage sale it, put it on Craig’s list, abandon it, or move it? We’re moving into the country – six wooded acres.

The plan (assuming it works out) is that this will be our last move – until that move to the County Home for the Helplessly Senile, of course. We’ll have plenty of space for us, kids, grandkids, and friends; not to mention dogs, cats, goats and all that privacy. We can do all sorts of strange and exotic things and nobody can see us!

axman