Like father like son

I'm on a high because he's there too. (Photo from faithandfitness.com)

I’m on a high because Dude’s there too.
(Photo from faithandfitness.com)

Age is only a number, albeit one that gets bigger with every passing year.  A number that is suppose to celebrate the time we’ve spend on this spinning blue ball.  A number that should be indicative of our experience, of lessons learned, mistakes made.  So why is it the cause of so much anguish and turmoil for some people?  (Present company excluded.)  The answer probably lies in the fact that age is also a timer counting down our own mortality.  The end of the road.  The kicking of the bucket.  Death.  And then whatever you consider might lie beyond that final breath. (Morbid much?)

Being on a journey to our inevitable demise shouldn’t imply that we settle into a casual stride on route to the final date with the grim reaper.  The journey should be an adventure where we pause at places that’s off the beaten track.  Taking little detours as often as we can.  Making the most of the number you have, as each one only last a year.  Growing old should be fun, a process of flipping the bird to Father Time.  And not because of vanity but merely because we need to re-establish general consensus of what age actually means.   Continue reading

Writing 101 – Day 8: Death to Adverbs (My Heritage Day)

Assignment for day 8: Go to a local café, park, or public place and report on what you see. Then some blah blah blah with a twist of “no adverbs”.

First off, my restraining order doesn’t allow me any public access.  I got it after a little fit I had about an incorrectly priced chair.  “A little fit” is an incident where you haven’t assaulted anyone, but required the Wife to remove you from the incompetent imbecile they appointed as the manager of the furniture store.  Removal was deemed necessary as a preventative measure in keeping me, a non-violent person, from slapping the shit out of him.

Seeing that hindsight is such a perfect science, I’m slightly embarrassed at my temper tantrum, but I had a rough day.  And the price was wrong.  And I couldn’t get the chair on the day I wanted it.  I had to wait a full 24 hours, which at the time implied that I was going to die. Continue reading