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Thoughts at Turning 82 . . . [1]
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Date: 2025-03-23
Thoughts at Turning Age 82
• Had I known I was going to live this long, I might have taken better care of myself.
• I never imagined that the simple act of getting dressed or undressed could be a “life-threatening” event.
• The International Residential Building Code ought to stiplify that all residences have only one story or an elevator.
• My father used to quote Bette Davis’ line, “Old age is no place for sissies.” He died at age 65. Slap another 17 years on top, and you’ve got “Braveheart”, Bette . . .
• It’s interesting now, how in the mornings, some parts of my body take longer to ‘wake up’ than others. Also, some parts frequently (and unexpectedly) like to suddenly take ‘naps’ . . .
• I’ve decided that life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer to the end of the roll, the faster it disappears.
• I came into this world fat, bald, toothless, babbling, drooling on myself, diapered and penniless. If the money ever runs out, then I’ll be going out exactly the way I came in.
• Anything tagged ‘cyber’ is a creation of Beelzebub.
• Beyond age 78, the law of physics dictates than 75% of everything you set down or move, falls on the floor. At age 82, logic dictates that if “it wants to be there” - leave the damned thing there.
• At 82, I’m full of piss and vinegar. Before, I was just filled with vinegar. (‘Cuse me . . . . I have to take a quick pee-break . . . )
• When I was young, my “wheels” got me all about the country. Now I’m thankful if they just get me down the hallway.
• If at first you don’t succeed . . . Screw it . . . Let someone else obsess over it.
• As a kid watching Chicago’s Channel 9 kids’ TV program “Ray Rayner and Friends”, I never understood why he had all those notes pined to his shirt so he wouldn’t forget ‘stuff’. Not only do I completely understand now, but I’m considering sticking Post-Its™ to my underwear as well.
• If the saying,”You’re only as old as you feel” is true, then I must be about 118.
• Descending those 3 steps into the garage takes all the concentration and balance of the entire Wallenda family.
• Years ago, my doctor suggested that as I aged, there might be four things that I could possibly loose. The first was my balance (‘positional vertigo’). The second was my memory. And I don’t remember what the other two are . . .
• Woke up a couple mornings ago feeling ‘all tingly’. Nope . . . wasn’t that ‘sweet bird of youth’, it was just carpal tunnel.
• Ever notice how all those “exercises for Seniors” are promoted and demonstrated by people under age 45? Balance on one leg for one minute? When Porky Pig soars in the stratosphere, Sweetpea!!
• Anyway, I’ve had to give up my morning exercises. I kept spilling my coffee all over the place . . .
• Anymore, I talk to myself all the time . . that way I always know someone’s listening.
• Lesson learned . . . Never try to dry your socks in the toaster oven.
• One of the frustrating things about being my age is that almost everything hurts. And the few parts that don’t hurt, don’t work . . .
• At work, I used to keep 10 balls in the air all at once. Now, they just all roll downhill.
• At age 82, the act of sitting down in a tall, comfortable, easy chair has become a “near religious experience”.
• I distinctly remember the moment a few years ago, when I looked down and first saw my father’s hand sticking out of my shirt sleeve.
• ‘Stupidity’ ought to be both painful and colorful. That way, you could more easily avoid the moaning, neon-glowing ones.
• Ever notice just when you get your hands in some “goo”, either the phone rings or your nose itches?
• I remember reading that there are but a few creatures that have an opposable thumb; humans being one of the species. My old, arthritic thumb is rapidly moving to being “un-opposable”. I guess I’ll no longer be classified as ‘human’ . . .
• When I was a kid and wished to be older, it might have helped had I been a lot more ‘specific’.
• I received a Trivia® question last week. Question: “Where is the only royal palace in the United States located?” Answer: Simple, in Donald Trump’s mind. Sorry t-RUMPers, I couldn’t resist. (Actually, it’s Iolani Palace in Honolulu, Hawaii.)
• I don’t remember exactly when it was that my legs severed the connection with my brain, but at 82, they certainly have a mind of their own . . .
• My cousin and I could never comprehend why, when my Mother, who was about 90 at the time, and her ‘younger’ brother, who was in his mid 80's got together, one of the topics of conversation was always “bowels” . . .
• I’ve asked the family, “No more birthday cakes, please.” All those smoke alarms going off simultaneously, might damage my hearing aids.
• “Stair Technique” . . . Turn sideways . . . Hang on tightly; both hands on the handrails . . . Down with the ‘Good’ leg 1st; ‘Bad’ leg 2nd. Up with the ‘Bad’ leg 1st; ‘Good’ leg 2nd.
• Note to self . . . Don’t take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.
• My life has witnessed the “Great Hair Follicle Migration”. Like wildebeests across the African veldt the ‘hair herds’ have relocated from traditional places (armpits, top of head, etc.) to nose (both inside and out) ears (both inside and out) shoulders (like an ancient “silverback” gorilla). Hmm . . . those follicles must be seeking greener pastures . . .
• Why must everything overwhelmingly be the color ‘black‘? When will this society get over its “Darth Vader” complex?
• I certainly miss real, old-fashioned weathermen like Chicago’s Channel 2's, P.J. Hoff and his “Vice President in charge of looking out the window”. P.J.’s forecast was accurate about 95% of the time. Today’s weather “services” bat somewhere about 50% accuracy. My joints are more highly accurate than the current crop of meteorologists and their computer models.
• Duct tape has long been one of my go-to’s for fixin’ items. I especially like the silver variety. It’s great stuff; real sticky; it can fix a whole bunch of things. One thing it can’t “fix” though, is stupid. But it sure does a great job of muffling it . . .
• There is one area in which I have developed the ability to ‘multi-task’. At 82, I can now laugh, cough, sneeze and pee all at the same time.
• Politics . . . pol· i· tics /ˈpäləˌtiks/ noun - A combination of the ancient Greek word “poli” (meaning many) and “tics” (a blood-sucking, decease-spreading insect).
• I figure if you live each day as if it is your last, the odds are increasing that someday you’ll get it right.
• Everyone who remembers how to use a slide-rule - raise both hands! Everyone who remembers what a slide rule is - raise one hand!
• Years ago, I gave up alcohol. I don’t need it anymore. I can get the same “buzz” by standing up too quickly.
• I’m still pretty good at working about the house, except it takes me about 4 - 5 times longer to accomplish tasks than it did 25 years ago. I need time to fully plan my ‘attack’ (no constantly runnin’ back and forth); assemble all my tools, parts and ‘aids’ (especially my “grabber-picker-upper” and rollin’ chair); and drag all the l' outils to the repair site. Then DOUBLE that amount of time just to find where I left my damned glasses!
• I stood the bathroom scales up facing the wall in the corner. The lying little bastard is going to remain there till he learns to tell the truth!
• I’ve always enjoyed watching movies. Not to big on action movies; and you can keep the ones with the over-the-top fantasy animation substituting for a script. I like well-written, well-acted, well-directed movies. They leave me with a nice ‘warm’ feeling. Altho’ these days I sometimes have to double check to make certain that the warm feeling isn’t the simply the fact that my Depends® has sprung a leak.
• During that “Great Hair Follicle Migration” mentioned above, chin & face whiskers didn’t follow the herds. A few of these, however, have successfully relocated into the deep, sagging wrinkles and crepe paper skin folds of my mug, and have resorted to playing “hide and seek” at shaving time. I never knew you can actually (rather severely) cut yourself with an electric razor!!
• Glancing in a mirror these days is a somewhat ‘startling’ experience. I’m suddenly confronted with the choice that what I’m seeing is either a reflection of very old, wrinkled, baggy version of myself, or a creepy character out of a Tim Burton movie.
• At 82, I’m so ‘thin-skinned’ that I have small hordes of multiple type Band Aids stashed all over the house at the ready.
• At my age, I find Morgan Freeman’s thoughts about eyesight entirely true. “As we age, our eyesight gets much weaker. But our ability to see through people’s bullshit gets much stronger.” I’m absolutely certain I’m seeing much more bullshit as the months continue to pass. Somewhere about 75% now, on my bullshit-o-meter.
• In the (a-hem . . . run by ‘tics’ - mentioned above) State of Indiana, there exists a law which states it is illegal for “Anyone 14 or older who profanely curses, damns or swears by the name of God, Jesus Christ or the Holy Ghost . . .” and further, prescribes that the offender, “Shall be fined one to three dollars for each offense, with a maximum fine of ten dollars per day.” Let’s see . . . $10 x 365 x . . . Hmm . . . I guess if I’m ever caught, convicted and fined, I figure I’ll owe somewhere in the neighborhood of about $226,300. (Good thing I’m not Catholic. If I had to say a “Hail Mary” for each offense, my arm would be worn to an inoperable frazzle from making all those signs of the cross.)
• In the deep recesses of my mind’s eye, I have occasionally have the feeling that I ‘still have it’. Problem is, I don’t know where ‘it’s located’. And if I could ever ‘find it’, I’m not certain I’d remember ‘what to do with it’ . . .
So, thanks to all of you for allowing me to ‘celebrate’ by sharing some random thoughts from my ancient, but still somewhat functioning cerebrum.
Take care, stay well . . . and the last one outta’ da’ room . . . turn out the lights.
[END]
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