GOING KICKING AND SCREAMING....zuki discovers his own mortality
Good Morning Life Support,
It has been pointed out to me by people I actually like that I tend to be grumpy and antagonistic most of my waking hours. I’d like to think this change of demeanor if I’ve changed at all, has been gradual rather than an abrupt dislodging of civility. I suppose it depends on who you ask, but it certainly means “I am no longer a curmudgeon. I am a curmudgeon emeritus.”
In reflecting on how I must come across to others I was forced to conduct a self-survey! This is much tougher than you think! I would challenge the two or three of you still reading this PSA to try and be subjective and not biased---without excuse.
Scientific method aside, I attempted to segment the 24-hour day activities or lack thereof that could factor into the equation. It didn't take long to realize that most of what ails me is self-inflicted or simply tied to getting old.
My newest grandchild Annie is 5 months old and takes swimming classes and is in the 99 th percentile of others the same age. She gives me such joy and would like to think she mitigates my foul moods.
As much as I claim that golf brings me enjoyment, clearly, I’ve been fooling myself as my inability to strike the ball cleanly has only delivered frustration. I have been admonished to ‘practice’ but there are a finite number of good shots in me and would prefer not to waste them on the range.
Ongoing health & environmental issues are such a nuisance and a source of continual pain. However, as I get into the day the various maladies tend to morph into one body-wide pain that only alcohol can diminish. Shaking, liver spots, IBS, broken glasses, bloody nose, 2 herniated disks, warts, dentures, man-boobs, high blood pressure, low platelet count, high cholesterol, severe cramping, knee replacement, flatulence, receding hairline, peanut sized bladder, and jowls growing with every passing day is a small sampling of my travails. This is not all of it, but I think you get the picture.
My lifestyle of bar visits and getting out of a golf cart most certainly don’t help—yet remains 90% of what I’m still good at. Daily gun shots, sirens, and car stereos that rattle my windows 6 times per day in the “Hood” all contribute to my irritability; dragging me toward a ‘postal’ moment.
While one couldn’t know from reading the above but I didn’t write this so you’d feel sorry for me, rather, I’m simply providing the data from my research to establish why I’ve become so crotchety.
We’re all headed to the point where jumping from this rock is inevitable. So, for those of you that have pointed out my anti-social demeanor there is plenty of blame to go around. I would invite you to join me at the bar for a bit of Whiskey and some conversation for perspective.
zuki
