Monday, March 25, 2013

As I awaken at 66

As I awaken this morning, on my 66th birthday, I realized that I have grown older and my age will seem to accelerate from now on.   Although a few have stayed in good spirits and lucid, I have seen some of my relatives and friends grow cynical, absent minded, distant and unconnected, intolerant and some downright mean.  I thought of what I would hope for in my behavior if I could get what I want for the rest of my life, so I made a brief list of some of my hopes.

·         I hope to have the opportunity to share with family and friends what I have learned, felt and experienced and to learn from what they have to share.

·         I hope to have the opportunity to learn something new every day, to help someone every day, and to make at least one person happy every day.

·         I hope not to lose the excitement of my dreams and hope that I continue to appreciate both the flowers and the fruit of my life.

·         I hope to never lose the joy of questioning everything and hope not to grow into the painful trap of questioning everything.

·         I hope to get visitors to the dusty museum in my brain. The displays may not be interesting, but they mean a lot to me and displaying them keeps the loneliness away.

·         I hope the end doesn’t come before I finish reading all the books I would like to read.

·         I hope to survive my own stupidity so I can keep growing older and wiser.

·         I hope that I will appreciate getting old as much as I appreciate living long.

·         I hope to be sympathetic with my friends without being sentimental of our past.

·         I hope not become cynical because being old and cynical is worse than being old and frail.

·         I hope I can recognize the talents in people and have the common sense to tell them so.

·         I hope for the patience to listen and endure the complaints of other’s ailments and have the wisdom to keep quiet of my own.

·         I hope for humility and to be less confident when the things I remember are different from what others remember and hope that I recognize the cases when my memory is wrong.

·         I hope not to become a harsh person and to keep my attitude gentle and kind.

·         I hope to be alive and lucid in 25 years.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

A Walk on a Frozen Lake and a Curious Scene



The day was clear and it didn’t seem too cold so I decided to take the dog for a walk.  Actually, I decided that Adrian and his friend Alex had been playing video games long enough and I need to get them out of the house.  We made our way to Stony Creek Park and proceeded to walk north through the woods from the beach and soon found ourselves walking on the lake.  The ice was very solid and it gave me confidence to let the kids walk on the lake after I saw someone ice fishing in the middle of the lake.  But I only let them walk no more than 100 feet from the shore.  Here are some pictures and videos.




On the way back we saw a very curious thing:  Four guys walking into the woods toward the lake.  They were walking single file and I wish I would have turned around and taken a picture of them.  The first and last fellows were carrying an aluminum half keg on the back of their shoulders holding the top and bottom of the cans.  The two middle fellows were carrying what seemed to be 50 pound weights, the round platter-type that go on a bar for weight lifting.  Now, what do you suppose all that was all about?  Any suggestions may help shed some light on this scene.

Age Is Creeping Up All Over



We have yet another reminder that we are getting older, we celebrated Rose’s 50th birthday on Saturday. Here is a video/slide show of the celebration dinner:




A higher definition video can be found at http://youtu.be/-XPGi2oKAfU (since it is unlisted, it can only be opened with this link)

Just a week earlier, Rebeca was distraught because Jr., a year older than her, became a grandfather.  That made her a great aunt, but it made me a great, great uncle!  Well that went over the proverbial “fart” in church.  How can Jr., someone whom I took pictures of when he was born, and when he was one years old and so on and so on, become a grandfather?  





The person looking back at me from the mirror is at least 70 pounds heavier and at least 40 years older.  So, where is me?  My only conclusion is that I am either in some “time warp” or the mirror was molded with Black Magic.  OK.  So my knees give out on me once in a while, and my clothes all shrunk (they say that Mexican food makes clothes shrink, there may be some truth to that).  I also have a difficult time reading small print (ok, ok, any type of print) and I may get a little out of breath when I climb a couple of flights of stairs.  But, doesn’t everyone?  The cavalier risk-taking attitude is still inside saying Go! Go!  Go!, but the body don’t wanna and its response is more in tune to Wimpy! Wimpy! Wimpy!  

This is what I expect to see in the mirror, a studious fellow writing down great wisdom


instead, this is what I see