Enjoyed Breakfast Four Times One Morning

      Woe is me! I find myself less and less able to stick to any given activity for long periods of time, e.g. reading or watching a movie. Hopefully, this decrease in my attention span isn't indicative of some larger problem.  My memory has failed 21 times this past month. Three separate times I have forgotten to turn on my signal light while turning at an intersection.  I even enjoyed breakfast four times one morning this week. Perhaps, I may have even forgotten the major tragedies in my life . . . I don't know. Unfortunately, now that I've put these words on paper, I may have jeopardized my  very existence.

      The U.S. Dept. of Planned Do-Away-with-Incompetent-Old-Folks may soon add me to their registry of Unnecessary Human Life.  The head of that department is every bit as cold-hearted as the head of Planned Parenthood.  And, Planned Parenthood is having more and more trouble supplying needed body parts to outfit the "more deserving amongst us" crowd. So, we older folks, in a show of proper altruism, should even be volunteering to stand in the gap. Our dogged selfishness is part of the problem; plus, there are just SO many of us nowadays. Perhaps, I should just turn myself in. Maybe, you should consider doing so as well.

      Many people have meditated heavily about growing older:  Ade Santi--Why did you leave? Am I not good enough? Where did you go? When did it happen? Who are you? That could be me. Gabriel de Tarde--Forgetfulness is the beginning  of happiness as fear is the beginning of wisdom. I am feeling pretty happy most of the time. Craig D. Lounsbrough--To forget is to blithely toss aside the hard lessons that were hard won by others before us, thereby needlessly dooming us to endure the hard lessons that are likely to be forgotten by those who will follow us. So, you see, (Soloman perhaps was right---all is vanity) the elderly have a blurred sense of existence and might not even realize what the Department was doing to them.

      I turn 70 tomorrow . . . maybe that's the age they've set as the upper limit (don't know---they are so darned secretive).  Hey, but who knows, maybe they've set it at 90, and I've several somewhat blurred, yet productive years ahead! Guess I'll just have to live day-by-day appreciating the opportunities God sends my way! Hmm . . .

Pseudo-ism

      I want to speak a bit about disingenuousness---hypocrisy, deceit, artificiality, phoniness . . . whatever you want to call it---deception, pretentiousness, pseudo-ism. I suppose one can be too bluntly honest; I may be guilty of that at times (along with several other crimes). But, I constantly encounter people who are remarkably two-faced and slick in their speech and actions, failing to grasp that those around them for the most part really are aware of their posing. It seems to me to be perhaps more prevalent in the generation just behind mine (I don't know why, and I'm not absolutely sure I'm right).  
      "So, what do you call a fake noodle? An impasta." Look around you please and start calling out the "impastas" who are trying to use their social skills and fakery to reign---to control the people around them and to satisfy their personal wants and to get by doing next to nothing, instead of striving for perfection. These fake noodles need to be tined by a thousand forks of genuineness. They are worthless and unnecessary, and they hold people back from achieving their complete potential. They make life miserable for those around them, while they gallivant about merrily. They cause immeasurable pain and trouble for innumerable numbers of folks. It is inexcusable to leech upon the good will and love of those in one's world---shame and blame may not be adequate punishment.
      Perhaps, lack of intelligence can lead persons to focus upon themselves and their needs and wants to the exclusion of every other motive. Evil can do the same! "No one who practices deceit shall dwell in my house; no one who utters lies shall continue before my eyes" (Psa 101:7).  Hate leads one to disguise himself as something other than what he is. In Romans 16:18, we're told: "For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naive." Phoniness is completely unacceptable: It is not a minor fault to be casually overlooked.
      If you find yourself entwined in the grasp of a pretentious controller, cut every cord. Jesus never once said we should enslave ourselves to someone else. We are free in Him. Pseudo-ism (my term) is a way of life for the politically correct and those who mouth concern for others, yet in no manner, really do anything other than serve themselves. Fakes are always superfluous. Pardon me, I warned you early on that now and then I would rant . . . and so I have.

It's Quite Simple to Put Into Words . . .

      Jan's recent thyroid cancer surgery, needless to say, got me to thinking about all kinds of things.  Sitting in a hospital room just "waiting around" is a cruel, harsh way to spend one's time.  Getting older each day, the whole health thing, the entire aging process thing, has come closer to the surface of my brain; I can officially call it a fact---I'm getting old. I also look around me and see more and more of us elderly, and I may be wrong, but I think more and more I'm seeing the silver ones being treated, as it were, as outsiders---the "honor" is missing for so many. I don't want to spend my final years simply avoiding being a burden on others nor do I want to be so aggressive and ardent, yet unaware of the contemporary, as to become an embarrassment to my loved ones. Just what is the pathway of proper aging, the way to age best? (Yes, as a friend has said, I'm thinking too much. I know. But, this is just who I am, I guess.)

     I've decided that it's quite simple to put into words though quite difficult to actualize, that all one really must do to age properly is to keep loving intensely those you love, to be even more passionate about your special interests, to keep doing well whatever it is you do. (My father-in-law epitomized this so very well.) Sure, sometimes we will not feel well enough to do that. But, so what. It's a matter of being real, of being genuine, of laughing when laughter is available, of crying when grief is appropriate, of dealing with the pain one encounters as quietly and patiently as possible. I want this for me. That's what I want from the rest of my life---just to be bona fide, authentic. To allow others to accept me as I am or to avoid me if they will.  It's okay.

      No, I'm not directly facing death and not being intentionally morbid. But, BJ Miller speaks of "what is really important at the end of life," and he says:  We know, for example, from research what's most important to people who are closer to death: comfort, feeling unburdened and unburdening to those they love, existential peace, and a sense of wonderment and spirituality.  Isn't that just neat!  I wish all younger people with elders in their lives could keep that fixed in the very front of their minds. For me, three of those four "wants" I have covered in my good friend Jesus Christ---the peace that goes beyond our finite understanding.  The fourth is tougher for me to foresee, but I pray God will not let me become a burden to my family---and I must leave that in His capable hands. 

      So . . . that's the way I want to finish out my life, and I hope other aging folks can realize we must strive, must persevere, to truly live until we die---not merely crumble away. I pray the youth of America will properly respect their elders. I love Robert Frost's remark: "The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected." God bless.

      

The World Needs a Wanda

      Did a couple of hours of weed-eating today and mowed one not-yet-completed area of the yard. Vacuumed the pool and shocked it. Picked a bunch of cherry tomatoes and emptied scraps and trash. Getting ready to make a groceries run here in a minute. Then, later this evening, I plan on planting some thornless blackberries.

      Now, I'm not saying all of this just because I know you're fascinated with my daily activities. I just got to thinking that a whole lot of bully groups today, imperious and distressed about their "rights" and seeking media coverage, could better have spent their time going about with me and helping me work a bit, instead ---a little sweat, you know?! They wouldn't think so, I'm sure, because they really prefer "helping themselves" and moaning about "their" difficulties. I know any number of people in this area who could use some helping hands to make their lives easier. 

       Selfishness comes easy to us all. When we finally discover that we are warped humans, it is easier still to grab hold of, to embrace, that basic human fault (the almighty Me) and focus our whole life around it. Most of us dramatize certain aspects of our character and/or personality. When those aspects are evil (you may not believe in evil---but I think perhaps you just haven't seen much of life), then one tends to behave in an evil manner and usually tries to justify that evil activity.
      We need heroes to combat the bullies of this sinful world.  I recollect my first day of school; before the starting bell sounded, I hesitantly, but excitedly (pretty proud of my bravery), seated myself on the merry-go-round, holding on for dear life. Suddenly, after a few times around the circle, someone grabbed me from behind and yanked me backwards off my seat to the ground. Straddled on top of me, he swung twice at my poor little head just missing; he was yelling that I had knocked his little brother's lunch off the seat. Then, a huge shadow appeared over us; my 4th-grade cousin, Wanda, yanked him off me, saying "You leave my cousin alone!" He slunk away. I sighed with relief.
      The world needs a Wanda---plain and simple. But, their aren't many around anymore. Maybe there aren't any . . .