OK. By now I've heard just about all the geriatric pokes and elderly stabs that I care to hear. "50, you're closer to being dead than alive"-Jake or "Wow, you're halfway to 100"-Savannah or "We can't put all your candles on or we'd burn the house down"-Grandma.
Believe me, I know how old I am. I'm reminded every day. I'm reminded when I wake up multiple times every night from my own snoring. I'm reminded when I stand up and my knee snaps out loud and I can't take a step for a few seconds. I'm reminded every day because I've worn a trail to the bathroom from multiple visits every morning thanks to my blood pressure pills. I'm reminded every time I turn over at night and my back pops. I'm reminded when I look at my fingers and my pinkies point a different direction than the other eight. I'm reminded when I try to read something without my glasses on. I'm reminded when I forget why I went into a room so I retrace my steps and I still can't remember. I'm reminded when the local hospital is kind enough to send me a birthday card and upon opening it I find that they're offering 20% off a colonoscopy. And I was reminded yesterday because I got an application to join AARP in the mail.
I know how old I am. And I know what it's like to take care of an aging parent. I'm almost excited thinking about the fact that one day you guys will have to take care of us. We had to change enough of your diapers it's only right that you have to clean up our little accidents. We had to decipher your baby language so it's appropriate that you have to try to decode the random babblings of a senile octogenarian.
Yes, I'm getting older. But that little commandment about honoring your father and mother ensures that there will be some payback. I'm just sorry that I won't remember any of it.
This is it!
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
If I Was A Little Braver...
People who know me know that my brain does not work like everybody else's. I look at situations a little differently and see humor where there may not be any. Luckily, over the years I've tried to learn how to fit in socially without embarrassing myself or those close to me. So this idea came to me to compose a short list of things that I would probably be dumb enough to try...if I were a little braver.
- After having minor wrist surgery and answering and infintesimal amount of questions about what happened, I tell the waitress at Texas Road House that I've had this little problem with cutting myself when I get upset, and my therapist says it's healthier to talk about it and get it out in the open. Then, after seeing her awkward reaction, I ask, "By the way, are the steak knives here are serrated or smooth edged and very sharp."
- After spotting the guy in the produce department at Wal-Mart with the frayed jeans riding way below his vertical smile, I casually walk over to look at the green peppers and step on the fringes of his frayed flare legs so that when he when he walks away, he's pantsed on the produce aisle. Call it justice.
- When an obviously way busy elevator stops on my floor and the door opens with only room for one more, I jump on so that both feet hit the floor loudly and as obnoxiously as possible; and then after the door closes I ask "So what's the weight limit on this thing anyway...?"
- After touching the tonometer to a kid's upper eyelid to measure the intraocular pressure, I say "See, you didn't even feel that needle did you?" (Actually I do this all the time.)
- After arranging for my Mom to visit my brother and his family 4 hours away for a weekend, I place a recorder in her apartment next to her bird's cage that will repeat a certain little phrase all weekend so that the morning after she's returned home instead of the bird saying "Good morning Skye, I love you," it says "You're not my real mom."
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Getting old is sure getting old...
The only thing that never changes is that things are constantly changing. That's deep even for me. I've been helping my dad back in SC because his Alzheimer's seems to be progressing fairly rapidly. He is getting confused about everyday things and has said some pretty funny things. I won't post his comments because I don't believe in exploiting those with advanced dementia for a quick laugh even though the things he says are so far from reality it's comical.
The thing that gives me pause, makes me think, even alarms me is that in almost every way I am my dad's clone. My last trip to SC shocked even those that new me as a kid because I look just like my dad 30 years ago. I've seen myself walking up to a plate glass door and I walk just like him. Sometimes when I laugh I can hear his mother laughing because I sound just like her. Genetics is weird and it's not always kind. As I see him go downhill mentally and catch myself forgetting simple things like somebody's last name (not mine), it scares me a little.
So this is my latest epiphany. If I only have about 30 years left I'm gonna make it a really good 30 years. I'm gonna use up my last bit of sanity trying to be kinder to my family, working hard for our future (retirement), and spending my time doing things that make me and Merrianne happy. That may sound mushy but those are the things that will keep me sane.
So if you have a choice whether to watch TV (brainless) or do a crossword puzzle(metally stimulating), do the crossword puzzle.
The thing that gives me pause, makes me think, even alarms me is that in almost every way I am my dad's clone. My last trip to SC shocked even those that new me as a kid because I look just like my dad 30 years ago. I've seen myself walking up to a plate glass door and I walk just like him. Sometimes when I laugh I can hear his mother laughing because I sound just like her. Genetics is weird and it's not always kind. As I see him go downhill mentally and catch myself forgetting simple things like somebody's last name (not mine), it scares me a little.
So this is my latest epiphany. If I only have about 30 years left I'm gonna make it a really good 30 years. I'm gonna use up my last bit of sanity trying to be kinder to my family, working hard for our future (retirement), and spending my time doing things that make me and Merrianne happy. That may sound mushy but those are the things that will keep me sane.
So if you have a choice whether to watch TV (brainless) or do a crossword puzzle(metally stimulating), do the crossword puzzle.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Is This What Relaxed Feels Like?
How many times have you looked forward to a vacation so you can kick back and relax with no worries about work or the daily grind, only to find that by the time your vacation is over you need some more days off to recover? Well, I think this is the first vacation I've ever taken where that didn't happen. We spent 7 days in Gearhart, OR on the coast with most of the kids and spouses and it was a lot of fun. We missed Ashley and Drew because Ashley is "with child" and the time is approaching that she should soon deliver.
We rented a house with enough rooms for everybody and cooked and ate in most every night. Each couple was responsible for a different dinner and I must say I'm more confident that my older kids aren't going to starve to death. Their dinners were all excellent. We were able to drive up and down the coast a little and see the sights. The boys went crabbing one day while the girls shopped. We didn't catch enough to feed us so we bought some more crab to supplement what we caught (which if I do the math, lets see I think it adds up to, wait, let me check, carry the one,oh yeah, NONE.) Expensive lunch but muy deliciouso.
We also hit the beach a few times and had fun in the sun and surf. The last night we went to the beach at night so we could experience the visually stunning pyrotechnic display of burning steel wool. Cameron had done it before so we were all sure it was a safe way to amaze and astound. The only problem turned out to be that the wire I bought to secure it and swing it around in the dark which was too thick so it was difficult to fasten it. Turns out that was an important detail because during the last display of the evening the burning chunk of steel wool came loose from the wire Cameron was swinging and flew straight into McKenna's hair and caught it on fire. I had my back turned and missed the whole thing but I didn't hear anybody yell "stop, drop, and roll." It was out in just a second so no harm done. I thought her hair looked just fine afterwards. I guess it could have been worse if she had used a lot of flammable hair styling products. She's such a good sport to let us catch her on fire her first vacation with our family and not hold any grudges.
All in all I think we all had a great time. We were able to spend a week together without any punches being thrown or verbal assaults launched; or at least that I'm aware of. Now that everyone has left for school and our house is unusually quiet again I realized that I kind of enjoy the chaos. It's makes things interesting. I hope that we can do it again one day, with everybody, and without the flaming finale.
We rented a house with enough rooms for everybody and cooked and ate in most every night. Each couple was responsible for a different dinner and I must say I'm more confident that my older kids aren't going to starve to death. Their dinners were all excellent. We were able to drive up and down the coast a little and see the sights. The boys went crabbing one day while the girls shopped. We didn't catch enough to feed us so we bought some more crab to supplement what we caught (which if I do the math, lets see I think it adds up to, wait, let me check, carry the one,oh yeah, NONE.) Expensive lunch but muy deliciouso.
We also hit the beach a few times and had fun in the sun and surf. The last night we went to the beach at night so we could experience the visually stunning pyrotechnic display of burning steel wool. Cameron had done it before so we were all sure it was a safe way to amaze and astound. The only problem turned out to be that the wire I bought to secure it and swing it around in the dark which was too thick so it was difficult to fasten it. Turns out that was an important detail because during the last display of the evening the burning chunk of steel wool came loose from the wire Cameron was swinging and flew straight into McKenna's hair and caught it on fire. I had my back turned and missed the whole thing but I didn't hear anybody yell "stop, drop, and roll." It was out in just a second so no harm done. I thought her hair looked just fine afterwards. I guess it could have been worse if she had used a lot of flammable hair styling products. She's such a good sport to let us catch her on fire her first vacation with our family and not hold any grudges.
All in all I think we all had a great time. We were able to spend a week together without any punches being thrown or verbal assaults launched; or at least that I'm aware of. Now that everyone has left for school and our house is unusually quiet again I realized that I kind of enjoy the chaos. It's makes things interesting. I hope that we can do it again one day, with everybody, and without the flaming finale.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
One More Time...
Well, a lot has happened since the last post. I guess when you're negligent in your posting duties that can happen. Two weeks ago we were in Utah for Cameron and McKenna's wedding and reception. Everything went great. George Durrant was their sealer in the Mt. Timpanogos Temple and the whole experience was wonderful. I didn't tell him that my wife had a crush on his son and wanted to marry him for the longest time. I thought it might make things a little awkward. But the whole ceremony was beautiful. The reception was equally impressive. Jill, McKenna's Mom, went all out with the vintage/retro theme and the decorations. I was really catching the vibe and the whole feng shui of the event. I have no idea what that means. I heard it on HGTV.
The reception here on Friday night went well too. The vintage/oldie theme was continued and even expanded upon. I guess that's why I felt right at home. I let my hair grow out a little so some of the gray showed (if you look really hard) so I could feel like I was part of the motif. I was vintage personified. I tried to loose a little more weight so more wrinkles would be visible but it didn't work out. I guess subconsciously I must have realized that was going a bit too far. Yea, that must be what happened.
Merrianne really did well with the decorations. She said that she just collected things and couldn't see how it would all fit together in the end. Could have fooled me. It was all perfect. Good thing I wasn't in charge of the decorations. To me vintage means old cars and classic motorcycles. That would have been hard to pull off in the gym at church. A pre-CBS Fender Precision bass thrown in there would have been pretty cool though.
But now it's all over. All the hoopla, all the festivities, all the pictures that are so fun to pose for under the intense exposure of solar UVA and UVB, all the hand shaking, the setting up and taking down and setting up and taking down again, the joy and feeling of accomplishment of sweating through my newest suit coat and all, the endless supply of healthy goodies and refreshments; it's all over. Now all we have are the memories and a bunch of junk in our garage. Oh well. So I don't wax too nostalgic I'll look at the bright side.We only have to do this two more times.
The reception here on Friday night went well too. The vintage/oldie theme was continued and even expanded upon. I guess that's why I felt right at home. I let my hair grow out a little so some of the gray showed (if you look really hard) so I could feel like I was part of the motif. I was vintage personified. I tried to loose a little more weight so more wrinkles would be visible but it didn't work out. I guess subconsciously I must have realized that was going a bit too far. Yea, that must be what happened.
Merrianne really did well with the decorations. She said that she just collected things and couldn't see how it would all fit together in the end. Could have fooled me. It was all perfect. Good thing I wasn't in charge of the decorations. To me vintage means old cars and classic motorcycles. That would have been hard to pull off in the gym at church. A pre-CBS Fender Precision bass thrown in there would have been pretty cool though.
But now it's all over. All the hoopla, all the festivities, all the pictures that are so fun to pose for under the intense exposure of solar UVA and UVB, all the hand shaking, the setting up and taking down and setting up and taking down again, the joy and feeling of accomplishment of sweating through my newest suit coat and all, the endless supply of healthy goodies and refreshments; it's all over. Now all we have are the memories and a bunch of junk in our garage. Oh well. So I don't wax too nostalgic I'll look at the bright side.We only have to do this two more times.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Father's Day
This Father's Day turned out to be a great one. We had a great day at Church; our last Sunday with the old Badger Mountain Ward because next week we all start our new wards. Ward boundaries were changed a week ago and we lost about a hundred people but we're gaining about 40. I taught EQ this week and my lesson went pretty well.
After church the real festivities began. We grilled pork ribs with plenty of Sweet Baby Ray's (our BBQSoC- BBQ sauce of choice),and had my favorite pasta salad with chicken and grapes, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes- a meal fit for a dad. And after I had more than my share of everything it was time for dessert- eclair cake. I was in food heaven. It just doesn't get any better than that.
After dinner we had the chance to sit around for a little while. I even got to take a nap. Life is tough ...right? Then we watched Remember the Titans ("Who do they think they are, the Beatles?") Great movie. It's fun to spend time with family. I did get a call from the bishopric to speak in church next week but that's OK; there won't be as many people.
This morning it hit me. This was the last Father's Day as a dad only. By the time the next one rolls around I'll be Grandpa. I'm glad I didn't think of it yesterday.
After church the real festivities began. We grilled pork ribs with plenty of Sweet Baby Ray's (our BBQSoC- BBQ sauce of choice),and had my favorite pasta salad with chicken and grapes, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes- a meal fit for a dad. And after I had more than my share of everything it was time for dessert- eclair cake. I was in food heaven. It just doesn't get any better than that.
After dinner we had the chance to sit around for a little while. I even got to take a nap. Life is tough ...right? Then we watched Remember the Titans ("Who do they think they are, the Beatles?") Great movie. It's fun to spend time with family. I did get a call from the bishopric to speak in church next week but that's OK; there won't be as many people.
This morning it hit me. This was the last Father's Day as a dad only. By the time the next one rolls around I'll be Grandpa. I'm glad I didn't think of it yesterday.
Monday, May 21, 2012
OWHATASLACKERIAM
Last time I did this I thought "now that taxes are over I'll be able to keep track of the normal, everyday stuff a little better." Yea right. I think I'm truly losing what little sense I had to begin with. Not gradually either; it's an exponential plummet. I've always known that kids kill brain cells. I had hoped that when they grew up and left home I would regain some of my former cerebral glory. I haven't exactly noticed that happening though. In fact, now that some of them have moved back in for the summer I've noticed a serious decrease in my already depleted cognitive skills. I've caught myself drooling a couple of times.
I do appreciate the things they do to help out. Travis has kept the yard looking good now that I'm too invalid-ish to do it myself. Cameron even got up on the roof of my office to change the filters because I've been banned from getting on a ladder. Baseball is winding down; there are only the city tournament games left. Jake got a great hit in Saturday's game, but I missed it.
I left early because I had been invited to participate in a 100 mile ride with the B.A.C.A. (Bikers Against Child Abuse). I was a sponsor this year so I even got Bullock Eye Care's logo on the back of the commemerative black biker T-shirt. I signed up as a sponsor months ago and I've been looking forward to this for a long time because I don't get to do too many group rides with bikers. I even skipped shaving for 4 days or so to look a little rougher. So I left Jake's game early to get over to the place we were leaving from. When I showed up there were already about 100-150 motorcycles there; most of them Harleys. I didn't recognize a soul; not even the guy who invited me. I just kind of wandered around halfway listening to some of the conversations. I couldn't tell what most of them were talking about, but I did recognize some of the most commonly used words in their vocabulary from way back when I spent all that time in prison. I realized quickly that not shaving for 4 days didn't make me fit in any better. When it was time to go a guy got up in front of everybody and announced what route we'd be taking and what stops we would make. He also used some interesting descriptive words which sounded a little unusual because he was yelling through a bull horn.
So when we pulled out of the parking lot it was kind of cool because we had about 150 bikes all pulling out together. Some of the guys were riding ahead and stopping traffic so we just went right through every intersection without stopping. Some of the drivers being stopped were waving at us and using gestures that didn't seem too friendly. One of them I recognized form the last time Merrianne asked me to flip the light off. So when we got to the freeway and headed toward Prosser it was pretty impressive seeing so many bikes spread out for a mile or so. Changing lanes was interesting. On one occassion we were passing a semi and as we were changing back into the right lane some of the bikes in front of me pulled back in way too close to the front of the truck. He layed on his air horn with a nice friendly greeting. I was about halfway back so I could see how far we were spread out forward and backwards. I could also see all the cars stranded in the other lane not able to pass or move forward at all because of the long string of bikes in the other lane. I guess I'm not a true biker because I'm really uncomfortable ticking people off when they're right beside me and we're going 70-75 and I'm on 2 wheels.
We arrived at our first stop- Desert Valley Power Sports in Prosser. We stood around and basically loitered for about 30 minutes or so. I was afraid of running out of gas because my range is only about 100 miles, so I left the parking lot a few minutes early and stopped at the gas station just up the street. As I was getting gas I saw all the bikers drive right past; leaving without me. I felt this strange sensation of relief and thought, Oh well. So I went down the Old Inland Empire Hwy and went home. I missed the party back at JD's tavern and the "bikini girl bike wash" after the ride too.
There is a moral to this story. It's OK to ride a bike and not be a biker or even a wannabe biker. I don't wear leather and my chick doesn't wear a leather halther. I love to ride but I don't live to ride, or ride to live. (I'm not sure what that means. I saw it on a jacket.) I've always heard that you are what you eat, but I also think that you become who you hang around too. And I know I don't want to become a leather-wearin', foul language usin', butt-crack-showin', beer-drinkin', bikini bike wash-watchin', borderline antisocial sociopath. I'd rather be a fat, bald, middle aged guy who feels younger than he really is when he plays his guitar and when he rides his motorcycle. That's OK with me.
I do appreciate the things they do to help out. Travis has kept the yard looking good now that I'm too invalid-ish to do it myself. Cameron even got up on the roof of my office to change the filters because I've been banned from getting on a ladder. Baseball is winding down; there are only the city tournament games left. Jake got a great hit in Saturday's game, but I missed it.
I left early because I had been invited to participate in a 100 mile ride with the B.A.C.A. (Bikers Against Child Abuse). I was a sponsor this year so I even got Bullock Eye Care's logo on the back of the commemerative black biker T-shirt. I signed up as a sponsor months ago and I've been looking forward to this for a long time because I don't get to do too many group rides with bikers. I even skipped shaving for 4 days or so to look a little rougher. So I left Jake's game early to get over to the place we were leaving from. When I showed up there were already about 100-150 motorcycles there; most of them Harleys. I didn't recognize a soul; not even the guy who invited me. I just kind of wandered around halfway listening to some of the conversations. I couldn't tell what most of them were talking about, but I did recognize some of the most commonly used words in their vocabulary from way back when I spent all that time in prison. I realized quickly that not shaving for 4 days didn't make me fit in any better. When it was time to go a guy got up in front of everybody and announced what route we'd be taking and what stops we would make. He also used some interesting descriptive words which sounded a little unusual because he was yelling through a bull horn.
So when we pulled out of the parking lot it was kind of cool because we had about 150 bikes all pulling out together. Some of the guys were riding ahead and stopping traffic so we just went right through every intersection without stopping. Some of the drivers being stopped were waving at us and using gestures that didn't seem too friendly. One of them I recognized form the last time Merrianne asked me to flip the light off. So when we got to the freeway and headed toward Prosser it was pretty impressive seeing so many bikes spread out for a mile or so. Changing lanes was interesting. On one occassion we were passing a semi and as we were changing back into the right lane some of the bikes in front of me pulled back in way too close to the front of the truck. He layed on his air horn with a nice friendly greeting. I was about halfway back so I could see how far we were spread out forward and backwards. I could also see all the cars stranded in the other lane not able to pass or move forward at all because of the long string of bikes in the other lane. I guess I'm not a true biker because I'm really uncomfortable ticking people off when they're right beside me and we're going 70-75 and I'm on 2 wheels.
We arrived at our first stop- Desert Valley Power Sports in Prosser. We stood around and basically loitered for about 30 minutes or so. I was afraid of running out of gas because my range is only about 100 miles, so I left the parking lot a few minutes early and stopped at the gas station just up the street. As I was getting gas I saw all the bikers drive right past; leaving without me. I felt this strange sensation of relief and thought, Oh well. So I went down the Old Inland Empire Hwy and went home. I missed the party back at JD's tavern and the "bikini girl bike wash" after the ride too.
There is a moral to this story. It's OK to ride a bike and not be a biker or even a wannabe biker. I don't wear leather and my chick doesn't wear a leather halther. I love to ride but I don't live to ride, or ride to live. (I'm not sure what that means. I saw it on a jacket.) I've always heard that you are what you eat, but I also think that you become who you hang around too. And I know I don't want to become a leather-wearin', foul language usin', butt-crack-showin', beer-drinkin', bikini bike wash-watchin', borderline antisocial sociopath. I'd rather be a fat, bald, middle aged guy who feels younger than he really is when he plays his guitar and when he rides his motorcycle. That's OK with me.
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