A very nice person who happens to read my blog asked me a few weeks ago how it is that I have so many interesting things to write about.
I usually have some vague ideas when I lay down to bed, and the ideas grow into deep thoughts while I am sleeping, sort of like crabgrass growing in your yard. Then, when I wake up in the morning, the stories are fully formed and I just sit down and start typing.
If it were only that simple…
In fact, there are many days I don’t blog, simply because I have nothing to say. I’ll pause while a few of you I know very well get up off of the floor.
True, I’ve rarely been short of opinions or comment. And in today’s world there is plenty to comment on. Here are just a few, in no specific order.
I’ve officially grown old. And I’m not just talking about my turkey neck and age spots. I’m only 57, but I’ve noticed in the past year my body has started rejecting the cold. I remember picking up my Dad when he was in his 50’s, and going to lunch. It would be July, and Dad would show up with long pants, a flannel shirt, and carrying a sweater. Huh? Now, when I go outside and it’s 60 degrees, I have to seriously contemplate whether a tee shirt is enough. And, I’ve started blowing my nose, you know, without have a cold or an allergy. Now, it just runs whenever it wants to, sort of like Frank Rizzo used to.
And that’s another thing, running. I still play basketball on Monday nights but I have this growing fear that one day I will wake up and simply will no longer be able to run. That my legs simply will not be able to perform that function. Have you had those dreams? Where you try to run and for some reason your legs won’t move? They’ve replaced the dreams where all of my teeth have fallen out. Also, you know you’re getting old when you no longer have sexual dreams…about anyone…or anything.
Let’s see, what’s next? My brother retired yesterday. At the age of 59. I am envious, I won’t lie. I am very much looking forward to the day when I can do nothing, if that’s what I choose to do. Despite the fact that I rarely spend a day when I am not constantly moving.
There was a murder-suicide in Radnor Township this week. A woman, whose husband was cheating on her, shot the husband’s girlfriend and then killed herself. Much has been printed already about this tragic situation. Apparently, she did not want to go on living, and had conveyed to her family that she wanted to end things in this manner to have her husband suffer. We humans are a tragic, unpredictable breed. There are probably about 10 sub-stories to this tale, but, I have to wonder, how easy would this have been to pull off if she did not have access to a gun?
We are all too busy. I have looked at my calendar for the month of May and I already have “things to do” written down on 14 different date blocks. Please, please, please, make sure you take at least one single day this month to do nothing, “structured”, to do with it whatever you’d like. They call it, I think, a “mental health day”. I think the woman in the previous paragraph could have used a few more of those.
We’re running out of, “Days”. Yes, the real ones, that’s true. But the named days as well. Just in May alone, we have Mother’s Day, but also, National Nurses Day, National Teachers Day, Armed Forces Day, Memorial Day, Victoria Day (Canada, sorry), and Ramadan. What about National Claim Adjusters Day, or Golfers who have never had a Hole in One Day? Seems to me we’re not trying hard enough. And yes, I am bitter to be a part of that last one.
For anyone of you who does care that I do write, please know that on days when I don’t, I might actually be busy working, or deeply involved in a home project, playing with my grand kids, or out walking with my wife. Or, I just may not have anything to say.
If there’s a subject you’d like to hear me write about, don’t be shy about that. You can always reach me at trappedinahappylife@gmail.com
Now, back to sleep. I need more ideas. Oh, forgot, have to go golfing and never make a hole in one.
Trapped in a Happy Life 