Getting Old

 

OK, so in exactly 20 days, I will be 87. Think of that . . . 87. Both my Grans went before their 82^nd. My mum left our world when she was about 80, but she had actually departed a year or two earlier due to dementia. When I last sat down and shared a meal with her, she no longer knew who I was.  My Father?? Who knows? I lost contact with him when I was about 11, when he left our home because our heating system failed and he assumed his two children, aged 11 and 14 could cope without him. So, who cares how old he was when he finally croaked?

So, what does it mean to be nearing 87?

Well, it’s interesting. My memory seems fine, oh except for those times when I go into a room and then have no idea why I came into the room. I was looking for what again?? But other than that, my brain seems OK.  I can still remember what day it is and who that lovely young woman is in the bed next to me at night.  I still recognize my kids and grandkids and my neighbors, so that’s a good thing. Oh, and I still recognize our koi’s, Harriet, Nick and Nora whenever I see them under the net currently over our pond to protect it from those nasty pin oak leaves. Oh, and that naughty tree has just begun to fight.

I continue to understand that our Nation suffered almost a complete mental breakdown in 2016 when we elected arguably the worst human being on the planet to the presidency. Happily, we recovered enough of our brain function to throw him out of office in 2020. But, he’s like COVID. Once we let him out into the open, he simply won’t go away. And speaking of him refusing to go away, his entourage has apparently adopted a model whereby they do not recognize who loves Trump and who hates him.  Now, I haven’t voted for a republican since 1952—Ike.  Yeah, ever since then, it’s been a very long chain of votes for democratic candidates for President.  Now, to be fair, about ten years ago, we re-registered as “Independents” to accommodate our desire to vote against a particular local republican candidate for a local office. And then we just never changed back. So, we are officially Independents, and that seems OK.

But apparently, the Trumpies imagine that we are now republicans in spirit if not fact. So, despite his loss in 2020, the Trumpies continue to push his (long lost) case for political legitimacy. I guess they insist that he is going to run again in 2024. So, they have some kind of campaign office. And every day, they send me 10-12 text messages, either asking me for money, or asking me to join some Trumpish entity, or swear allegiance to a Trump cause.  That’s EVERY DAY—10-12 text messages. So I designate each text as SPAM and then delete it. And I receive also maybe 4-5 e-mails each day from them, each of which is configured so as to make it into my Junk Mail file, all of which are deleted daily.

Now I don’t read any of these messages—NONE. But how did they possibly get the idea that I might even dream of supporting this cretin? I mean, I think I am very close to the bottom in terms of people on our planet who would vote for Trump.  I suppose if Vlad Putin suddenly appeared on a ballot here, opposite Trump, I might choose Trump, but even then I am unsure.

And when I ask, how incompetent his supporters have to be to text me 10-12 times per day, I have to remember that I receive perhaps 10-15 telephone calls on my mobile every day from people trying to scam me. If they aren’t on my contact list, I never answer the phone.  But the scammers continue to exist, sort of like the Trump supporters. I call them all our Nightmares in our Land.

But on a happier note, a jury convicted the cretins who murdered Ahmaud Arbery.  If you recall, that young man, who happened to be Black, was jogging in a neighborhood not his own (how many times have I done that? Oh every time I jogged) when this cretinous pseudohuman decided that, because he was Black, he should not be entering the neighborhood of cretins. And so, with the help of two other cretins, they arranged to shoot Mr. Arbery dead. Now normally, white humans shooting Black humans receive no penalty. Evidently jogging While Black is a crime everywhere, and the jogger is fair game. But somehow, this particular jury decided that Jogging While Black is not technically a crime, and so they convicted the assailants of murder. Wow, finally some good news after that awful Rittenhouse verdict.

And so, our world goes on its merry and somewhat deranged pathway called America. And I give some thanks for this small measure of civility.

But did you know that Tony Bennett is 95, still sings (thanks Lady Gaga) and refuses to recognize that he has dementia? Way to go Tony.

OK, folks, stay safe, be sure to catch that Beatles retrospective, shop local for Christmas, and let us hope this latest variant Omicron stays out of our way.

Ta Ta folks.