GOT TO KNOW:

“ONE MINUTE, YOU’RE YOUNG AND FUN, THE NEXT YOU’RE PREDICTING THE WEATHER WITH YOUR BAD KNEE!”

(Personally, I thought getting old took longer than this!)

TELL US;   WHAT DO YOU FIND THE BIGGEST CHANGES SINCE WHEN YOU WERE ‘YOUNG AND FUN,’  NOT THAT I DON’T THINK ALL OF US AREN’T AT LEAST FUN ANYMORE!    I AM, I THINK 🙂

 

?????

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14 Responses to GOT TO KNOW:

  1. bocopro says:

    As a young, indestructible, bulletproof, essentially immortal young man, I began to ponder the profound mysteries of life itself. Read a lot, thought a lot, and rejected a lot of dipsh-tery.

    Several things wouldn’t even go INto my brain . . . no matter how hard I tried to lay ’em out on the graymatter exam table, they just slithered away, like tryin to put a greased pig onto a bicycle or somethin.

    One of those concepts was death, my own mortality, the end, the big sleep. Wouldn’t penetrate . . . I coulda had more success tryin to shove a feather into a brick.

    Over the decades, however, I’ve made some observations — like WHO THE HELL IS THAT GUY STANDIN IN FRONT OF ME IN MY BATHROOM MIRROR !!!!

    Tempi cambi, and so does the mortal coil of which The Bard had his indecisive prince speak. A series of mutinies and desertions have taken place since I completed my 25th or so trip around the system center.

    Hair began to fly off the upper-deck landing pad sometime during the Nixon years, and my resident logistics and material manager never replaced it.

    Teeth began to abandon ship in the Reagan era so that only 60% of the original complement remain on duty.

    Keratoses and patches of seborrhea began to pop up in places where I really didn’t need ’em, along with tiny little hairs on the tops and lobes of my ears, which kinda mystified me.

    My upper-body muscle mass didn’t exactly slip or sag, as some guys experience, and I still weigh exactly the same as I did when I joined the USN in 1959 (166 lbs) — the problem is that I’ve shrunk in height by 2 1/2 inches and have had to go to 32 waist Wranglers from my original 30s.

    Walking around sans specs is a dangerous adventure in tactile discovery, and I think my prostate is about the size of a pomelo. My arteries are as brittle as Christmas divinity fudge somebody hid in the pantry and forgot about ’til some time around income-tax day.

    So . . . it finally soaked in — I am NOT immortal, and like every other thing that ever lived on this planet, one day my time will be up.

    I get it. ‘T’ain’t scary no mo’. I’d kinda like to put it off for a li’l while to see how our current Keystone Kops gummint “builds back better” in the next coupla years . . . maybe find out if Tsoukalos and Childers are onto somethin with their far-out explanations of Gobekli Tepi, Puma Punku, Saksayhuaman, and Teotihuacan . . . OH, and if what Oak Island was REALLY built for was to hide the Ark of the Covenant.

    But if I don’t, ‘s’okay. I’ve had a good run . . . might be slidin into home a little scratched up and weary, but I really can’t complain. And I CERTAINLY can’t put if off forever.

    Summadem other ideers, tho, still won’t go in — such as treason, jamming dangerous chemicals into my veins, homosexuality, Islam . . . . . . .

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  2. One recent change as I approach age 70 (as of about 6 weeks ago): I now need a daily nap, and it doesn’t interfere with my sleeping at night — even if I take my daily nap from 9:00 PM-10:30 PM. 😉

    Maybe I’m somehow “catching up” from over a decade of sleep disruptions (caring for Mr. AOW and, after he died, getting ready to move).

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Another change, but it could be attributed to all the eye trouble I’ve had since my early 30’s: I cannot safely drive at night unless I’ve driven that path several times during the day.

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  4. kidme37 says:

    Well, my friends tell me I’m fun, so I won’t argue much. Rather than used to be young and fun I’ll say young and stupid. I will say I wasn’t so stupid as to accept much of the BS being sent my way and I had no clue what the hippies were on about back in the 60’s-70’s. Didn’t have much in common with pop culture and have even less as each day passes.

    Biggest difference is physical. I wake up thinking I’m 35, then my body reminds me as much as necessary through the day that no I’m not.

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  5. Well, since my knee injury last January, and the surgery on it last month, My knee now predicts the weather. Michigan has lots of weather.

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  6. MAL says:

    I DUNNO, BUT I’LL TELL YA WHEN I GET THERE, GUYS!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. geeez2014 says:

    BOCOPRO…I WISH you were writing some kind of BOOK…your experiences, or the changes in America since your childhood….etc etc.
    Your comments are FAR more smart and entertaining than most books and I know our other readers here would agree.

    KID ought to write a sardonic joke book about the state of affairs (both kinds HAAA!!) 🙂
    KID…I think my friends will say I’m still fun, too………gotta ask Baysider 🙂 !!!!
    And yes, the physical stuff can hurt…emotionally and physically!!!

    AOW…I’m SURE you’re catching up on sleep…I’m a MISERABLE sleeper at night..barely do. And I’m getting way too tired after lunch. Really weird…usually can’t sleep then, but…T I R E D

    ED..so that ‘joke’ about the knees telling our age isn’t so funny or metaphorical for you.
    I hope it doesn’t usually hurt!!..other than in Michigan winters.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. MAL says:

    As for predicting the weather with your bad knee, Z. Did you know I’m also a weather man?
    I can take one look at a girl and tell ya whether!

    ;o)

    Liked by 3 people

  9. Baysider says:

    Confirming … Z’s fun! And so much more.

    Ed, after I had surgery on a wounded knee the “nerve” feeling pain seemed to linger forever. As the years went I could kneel on the floor again without feeling it, and now I can’t quite remember which knee it was! I didn’t notice weather with it, including while skiing, so I’m not just talking about that temperature range from 55-85. But man, did the nerves strike!

    My changes are much more from circumstances than age. Although the last year I’m am feeling quite run down like I won’t bounce back – ever. You know I’ve said this summer took 5 years off my life in 6 weeks. It’s very hard to get out of the house by myself, which I did this morning. I felt so upbeat in the grocery store and driving with the sunroof open. Then home to my ball and chain. But a positive change is deeper spiritual maturity.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. bocopro says:

    Ack shully, I’ve written a ton of stuff over the years . . . articles, short stories, poems, parodies, and at least 7 lengthy novellas. Other than a few poems and a coupla short stories, tho, very little has been published anywhere except in shade-tree anthologies, scholastic journals, chapbooks, and such.

    Here’s a brief apocalyptic allegory an environmentalist mag asked me to do back in the 90s. I think they paid me $25 for it:

    EARTH ASIDE

    Her birth was slow, and painful, and cold. But finally it was over, and she became part of the family. Things were touchy at first, scary. That first period of adjustment was dangerous. She had to get her movements coordinated and regulated to fit in and avoid potentially fatal clashes with her siblings and especially with her father.

    It was easy, though, at least most of the time. She survived the normal mishaps, bumps, scrapes, near-misses, collisions, and various running threats that all families go through from time to time. And she came through relatively unscathed, not like the one who completely fell apart and still caused occasional trouble for her and her closest brother.

    Actually it was all quite simple. She and her little playmate went through their period of coordination and development very naturally. For a time she suffered violent and sometimes shattering changes deep within her, but they lessened in frequency and severity as she developed. Other changes began to happen on the outside, too, but they came about slowly and she took no
    real note of them.

    After countless summers and winters and changes and maturing, she knew herself well. All her internal and external functions became routine and predictable. She basked in her father’s power, absorbing what she could and just doing what came naturally. And then one day the long period of youth ended. She became a mother.

    It was tiny and blue, and for a long time it did nothing but grow very slowly. But even as it grew, it changed. And as it grew and changed, it altered everything around it. The effect it produced, quite naturally and without any particular plan or goal, forever changed her.

    The new life, the child of the child, went through its own period of adaptation. New procedures, new habits, new conditions arose, but everything stayed in balance, with each other and with her. Sometimes life got rocky and stormy, but generally things always managed to stay in harmony no matter how terrible certain situations got. She went on as before, secure in her new development, her emergence into the community as a life-giver.

    Uncountable stars continued their race for whatever goals they were rushing toward. Time had no meaning, no start, no end. Balance and harmony shaped her cycles. She obediently followed her father, never out of the influence of his power, his life-giving energy and warmth. She filled to overflowing with life, life in great abundance, in great balance, great potential. It was everywhere upon her, in her, around her. She was the center of a sphere of vibrant, symbiotic, regulated, harmonious co-existence. And her children grew bigger, stronger, smarter with each cycle of her peaceful life in her father’s leadership within the greater society.

    But something went wrong. One of her children strayed outside its natural limits and began slowly to change the scheme of things. At first she compensated, counter-balanced, and made provisions for the break in the routine, the harmony. But her efforts had little effect. Other children began to show signs of stress. After a while she found it hard to breathe, hard to control her chemical balance. Her systems backed up with impurities, and she couldn’t get rid of her wastes. Too late she recognized that one of her babies had become cancerous. It seemed to happen almost overnight. No matter how hard she tried, the problem worsened.

    The cancer was contagious and spread quickly. It began to kill the other children. One after another she saw them, felt them, heard them slowly weaken, ebb, and fail. The disease fed on itself, growing, spreading, killing. Even her father’s energy and warmth no longer helped but actually seemed to worsen the problem. Her body writhed, heaving in uncontrollable convulsions. The life which had surrounded her in a vibrant aura choked and starved and died. The sickness lay upon her like a shroud, depriving even the cancer of the essence of life.

    It, too, died, its own death throes echoing hers in the searing heat, the bitter cold, and the raging silence of the dust storms.

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  11. MAL says:

    “One minute you’re young and fun……” While aging is inevitable, having fun is still optional. I try to keep humor and fun in everything I do ’cause none of us is gittin outa here alive so we may as well be happy as possible we’re here. You’ll also find folks will warm up to you more easily because deep down, they want to be happy, too, and what better way to make folks smile than being fun?

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Mustang says:

    I won’t admit to getting old, but last year I went out for the Mr. America contest and ended up losing my citizenship.

    Liked by 2 people

  13. geeez2014 says:

    BAYSIDER…thank you SO much. That touched me.
    I LOVE that you’re such an encouragement to Ed with his knee…I hope he has a good healing, finally, too.
    And yes “But a positive change is deeper spiritual maturity.”….trouble really does bring us to our knees (there’s that word again) metaphorically AND in reality! And faith does so much it’s hard after you’ve experienced it to negate it, isn’t it. A kind of miracle.

    MAL, i love what you said..FUN IS OPTIONAL….SO good. You are a true optimistic and I love that!

    MUSTANG: Hilarious!!!!! But, I’m SURE that’s wrong 🙂 xxx

    BOCOPRO…trying to picture YOU writing for an environmental magazine…..
    This is amazing. WAAAY worth more than $25 even with inflation 🙂
    Thanks….
    You do have amazing talent.

    I THINK EVERYBODY here has writing talent…and all QUITE different….and I believe we all have humor that shows in our comments.

    I love you guys….very grateful to you all. I needed a lift and you gave it to me today!
    Back to being FUN if not very YOUNG 🙂

    Like

  14. bocopro says:

    “. . .trying to picture YOU writing for an environmental magazine…..”

    Yeah . . . back in the late 80s and early 90s I was trying to peddle a story based loosely on Joseph Campbell’s monomyth theory . . . obscure birth, adoptive mentor, adventure of discovery, and all that.

    The “trick” was time dilation (or dilatation, if you prefer) which allowed a young woman to sponsor a test-tube child which would grow to maturity while she (an astronaut) was traveling at near-light speed, which meant that when she returned, she’d be in her late 20s while he’d be 25-ish or so.

    In standard paperback print, the 60,000-word story would’ve been roughly 200 pages, so mailing the ms to publishers was prohibitively expensive in the pre-e-mail milieu. Sent fishing letters to maybe 25 publishing houses without much success.

    But a guy named Hudgins (I remember his name because of a kid with the same name who worked for me in the Navy, but can’t remember the company he worked for) asked if I had any mankind-is-destroying-the-planet material.

    I sent him a story I’d done up about two tribal cultures on an island who through superstition and war manage to cut down all the trees and wipe themselves out. He said that one was too long (about 9 pages and 5,000 words) and asked if I could do something briefer, like a parable or a fable.

    That’s how “Earth Aside” came to be. Didn’t see it as a parable, and human allegory rather than fable seemed more credible. He paid me for the story AND my mailing costs; also sent me a copy of the slick-cover magazine it appeared in, which was lost in the disastrous 2014 flood and I don’t remember the name of.

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