Friday, November 15, 2019

Social Insecurity













The government is doing everything in its power to make me feel old.
And I’m not talking about the endless mind numbing, word bending, brain freezing, back bending, gobbledygook that comes out of Congress and the White House every minute of the day.
Or the watching paint dry, snail’s pace at which things do or do not progress and are or are not resolved.
I mean, one of these days they’ll make that Nixon fella pay for what he did…or didn’t do.
No, I’m talking about something on a more personal level…something that really matters…at least to me.
If you recall—and why would you, even though you should—I turned 65 earlier in the year.

65…that magic number which evokes images of broken-down cattle, lumbering out to pasture, spending their remaining days munching on bean curds, or whatever it is old cows munch on.
65…the age your grandpa hung those risqué posters of Betty White, down in his rumpus room.
65…the age when people politely say you haven’t changed a bit, since High School, which makes you wonder how bad you must have looked in High School.
65…the age the government says you must begin to reap your Medicare benefits; in whatever part of the alphabet you should choose…be it A…B…C…or D.
Pick a letter, any letter…just pick one…or two…or three…or all the letters you want.
They’ve got a letter for everything.
Once you’ve deciphered all of that and you’ve gathered—you think—all the letters you’re gonna need to cover that unexpected goiter removal at age 75, you’re now ready to take on Social Security, which, in my case, I can begin receiving at age 66, my full retirement age,
which is just a mere third of a year away.
Of course, if I were a year younger, I’d have to wait another 2 months, past age 66 to rake in the moola.
And if I were two years younger, I’d have to yet endure an additional 2 months…etc. etc. etc.
So, it appears there are times when younger isn’t necessarily better.

Friday, November 8, 2019

Back Then - Right Now







With Halloween’s ghosts and ghouls well in the rear view, we now commence gobbling up bushels of November days, trotting ever onward toward Thanksgiving.


See what I did there?

I incorporated as many cliched, Thanksgiving references I could stuff into a single, festive serving.

There…I just did it again!

Not easy….

No indolent MeleagrisGallopavo, am I.  You won’t catch me sitting idly by, bogged down in cranberry jelly dodging Turkey shot.

Uh uh…not me…

Besides the fact, I prefer lying, idly by, I’m always on the lookout for new and exciting gobbledygook to confuse the issue and keep you, the reader, scratching your head.

How’m I doing?

So, we snuck in another Halloween, last week; complete with several Billion little holiday revelers pounding on our front door. It was a bit touch and go for a while, whether or not we would. The weather was an issue, most of the day, with a threat of heavy rain in the evening. Luckily, except for a few isolated showers, it held off and we shoveled out a couple of truckloads of “Fun Size” candy bars.

Although, as I queried,last year, what’s “Fun” exactly about teeny weenie candy bars.

So I’ve started a campaign aimed at all the major Willie Wonkas among us, to rebrand these “Fun Size” confections more appropriately as “Terribly Life Crushing, Disappointment Size”.

Which—besides the fact, I used the same line last year and it still sounds a bit harshI believe is more appropriate.

Why sugar coat it…so to speak?

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

When Last Convened….










When last convened, I was opining on how quickly we’d progressed from January to July, in the blink of an eye.

And now, with yet another blink, we’ve landed in the waning days of October,

I really need to get some eyedrops.

I wonder what would happen if I sneezed?

Hello, 2055!

If all goes according to plan, I’ll be 101, in 2055.

101, thinking…Ahhh, I miss 91…them were the days!

All that wild partying and galivanting with the hot chicks from the Geriatric Cognitive Dissonance wing.

I’ll probably be signing up for Medicare Part Y by then; still without Dental or Vision coverage.

But that’s okay, because, by then, I’m sure they’ll have found a way to regenerate bicuspids and corneas.

Have snap on Knee and Hip replacements.

Velcro shoulder replacements.

Total Brain recalibration and rehydration that will allow us to recall where we left our keys…back in 2014.

So that should be pretty cool.

In the meantime, how was your summer?

Friday, July 26, 2019

January to July in the Blink of an Eye










These days, we fly from January to July in the blink of an eye.

Even while producing factitiously formed frolics of rhyme, which, in and of itself, might be considered a caustic crime.  

Sorry…once you get mixed up in a cycle of random rhymes and sophomoric sophistry…not to mention atypical alliteration…it becomes a bit of a treacherous trick to essentially exit.

But I will persevere, if only so I can be done with this before lunchtime…both mine and yours.

Not to mention August.

So, let’s not…mention August…at least not yet…not until it’s time.

Which is where I was heading with this…again…until, you know, the desultory detour.

Time, time and more time.

It all comes back to time.

Time and time again.

And I’ve been wasting a lot of it…time, that is…trying to figure out where it all goes, and why it goes so fast.

Not that I need tell you.

 I just did a “time” keyword search of past stories and discovered…well…I waste a lot of time, discussing time in some form or another. 

I guess I missed my calling as a watch maker. 

But I’ve made some progress in my temporal temporality fight, over time.

I’ve figured out you can’t really worry about it, too much.

Monday, June 24, 2019

Racking Up Another Summer







Summer is now officially here!

As of 11:54 A.M. EST, this past Friday, the sun arrived at its highest point in the northern hemisphere, which means we experienced the greatest amount of daylight and least amount of darkness of any day of the year, not counting the ever present dark, gloomy, rainy skies we’d been living under for the last 6 months…or thereabouts

My lawn looks spectacular, however, including the bountiful new crop of mushrooms within, so there’s that.

Yep, we can all start officially enjoying the summer, whole hog, instead of the half hog unofficial enjoyment we’d only been permitted between Memorial Day and now.

So go for it!

In any manner of hog you prefer.

And don’t dawdle because we only have a measly 3 months of official summer left, and you know how that goes.

The LL Bean Fall catalogue is flooding your local post office as we speak, and I’ve already started unpacking my Christmas lights.

It goes fast.

Which is why I don’t get as hung up on the comings and goings of the seasons as much as I did when I was younger...ish.

Friday, May 10, 2019

Off You Go…go….









You probably don’t spend too much time talking on the phone these days.

You probably text more than talk.

You’re in…you’re out.

Don’t forget, to bring your pants home, this time!

Texting is short and simple.

Talking, is not.

“How are you? No, I didn’t know about your eczema flare up. Yes, I did see that movie. No, I won’t tell you how it ends. No, I didn’t see that one…oh, he was dead the whole time…no kidding. So, you ended up with sausage instead of meatballs?  I suppose that was a nice change.  How long of a procedure is that? I have no idea if it’s considered cosmetic or not.  Well, your guess is as good as mine. Okay, I guess your guess is better…I guess.”

Talking can drag on…for a while.


Especially when you’re not quite sure how to get off the phone.

Even after 8 hours.

You could use the direct approach.

“Holy Moly, my kitchen is on fire…I have to go!”

Or Holy Moly, whatever…fill in the blank.

Because Holy Moly is always a good go-to escape route no matter what you attach to it.

Or you can be even more direct… 
“You know I really don’t care about anything you’re saying…in fact, while you’ve been yammering on and on for the last hour, I’ve been cleaning my oven, and the hour before that I was counting the litter in in the litter box.”

You could say that…some people do…not saying who.

Although, unfortunately, for the most part, people don’t like to be rude.

Friday, April 26, 2019

Impeachment and me








I may have been a little hasty in my rush to claim full and complete exoneration, a few weeks back.

Yeah….

Especially since full and complete pretty much mean the same thing.

Apparently, there are some obstruction of justice issues, still on the table.

Like my dirty breakfast and lunch dishes.

And possibly a late night snack or two.

Possibly.

Z said there’s no justice in that…especially since she knows I know she can’t stand a messy kitchen and I expect she’ll clean it all up in the morning.
Along with all the dirty laundry left on the floor, which Z hates, especially since most of it belongs to my friend Vladimir, who dislikes going to the laundry mat. 
Vlad say's he's above all that, and I believe hm. 
I have no reason not to.
He' was very forthright and genuine when I looked him right in the eye and asked him about it.