writing

A Few of the Many Things I Don’t Understand

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Why do things fall from my hands so easily? It was much easier to pick them up when I was younger, so why didn’t they fall, then?

With a population of 340 million people, why do 77 million voters keep saying they “represent all of America”? Don’t the other 263 million people matter?

Where DOES time go? I’ve never heard anyone answer.

Could there be more than one “soulmate” in someone’s life? Follow up question (FUQ): How could a man get married a THIRD time without learning his lesson after the second?

Why does a person who does something stupid work so hard to deny it? FUQ (Yes, I know what it sounds like. Stop giggling.): Is it because they are stupid?

Why do we elect popular people for Prom King and President? FUQ: Are females just not popular? Are smart, intelligent, experienced candidates persona non grata? Like the television show, “Survivor”, are they too much of a threat?

A baseball player for “the other New York Team” will make $51 million dollars per year to play baseball. Is it a coincidence it is same amount as the entire annual budget for the city in Upstate NY where I live? Definite FUQ up: Could the player adopt the city and support us?

When someone says, “be cool”, do they have a specific temperature in mind? FUQ: Be “chill”? I’ve never been able to agree on temperature with anyone I ever lived with so…

Why do conservatives whine so much about “Main Stream” and “Legacy Media”? Isn’t Fox News Legacy Media? Fox is definitely “main stream”. Okay, Fox is lame. FUQ: Do Fox viewers know Fox was designed to be biased. On purpose. To counter other bias. Another FUQ: Do two wrong bias’ make a right? Do they offset? Should we be watching the cartoon network for news?

Why are sports teams so insensitive? March Madness is here. I predict two teams will fight like cats and dogs during a hard-fought, entertaining, exhausting game and when it’s over,…hate each other. In the old days (OD), in the YMCA gyms, we fought like cats and dogs and then went out for beers. Ah, the OD.

When did money take over the world? At least the American world. There are more ways to make money without making anything, now. They call it passive income. In the OD if you couldn’t shoe a horse, sew up as wound, or kill another man before he killed you, you were out of luck. Now, if you put some horse-shoeing income in a tax-deferred account, invest it in ETF’s, and sell high and buy low…huh. Maybe that is productive work.

Why does the body fall apart, wither, and die? FUQ: Is there any way to guarantee our mind won’t leave us before the body does?

Sorry about those two…

Why do all the people in old photographs look so unhappy? Was it their nature or the inconvenience of having to stay immobile long enough for the film to work?

Life must have been hard in the real OD. Thinking of how hard it would be, for example, to wipe your butt with a Montgomery Ward Catalogue page. Or a leaf. Maybe they never went to the bathroom. Ken Burns could make a documentary about defecation and urination. FUQ: How many people have died over the course of history?

Enough. It’s sad to write about some things…

Men, Money, and…Corruption?

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Spring is near and it is bringing with it a sense of humor. Thank God.

I stumbled across this quote from a 96 year-old man who sounds liberal, but truth often sounds liberal: “The world is a mysterious and confusing place. If you are not willing to be confused, you become a mere replica of someone else’s mind.” -Noah Chomsky.

How funny is that?

You may have read here, ad nauseum, Americans have gotten so smart about everything. Sadly, the less education you have the more you know as experts are overly educated and dangerous. Come on, we have a billionaire, reality TV star as President now. If that’s not funny…

Now, after the above quote and my newly recovered sense of humor, it makes sense why people being smart bothers me: they’re missing out on life and ruining it for the rest of us who are confused.

An earlier Steven Wright line (Dr. Steven Wirght, BTW) ties it together precisely: “A conclusion is the place where you get tired of thinking.”

Americans are really, really tired of thinking.

Here’s an exercise for us all. Find someone with your opposite views of the world and try to talk like them. Sean Hannity and Alina Habba have done it perfectly ironically in their latest remarks on Fox. Google it and watch them snicker about stupid “other people”. It’ll make you laugh so hard you’ll gag.

MAGAns will conclude who the Other People are. Democrats may conclude the opposite. And away we go. Conclusions.

There is merit in knowing how little you know, and you can make a living at it. Ask Christopher Lloyd who does it on purpose, and Sarah Palin. Wait, just Christopher. (All young people google Taxi.)

What does all this have to do with Men? And Money?

Our Capitalist monetary system makes it easy for greedy Men with no conscience to make tons of money off people who “reached conclusions”. Trump merchandising is an obvious example, but the Left’s examples are subtler, and just as pernicious. (A couple weeks ago, an email from The Harris “something” asking for money to pay off bills. There should be a charge for spam mail.)

And when Men make money, what do they do? They make more money. I had a good laugh this week when a news pundit said: “billionaires don’t care about making more money”. It’s funny because that is exactly what they do care about. I’d have been happy with the first million. But men are greedy. (Don’t ask, I know what you’re thinking. Blame J D Salinger and “A Perfect Day For Bananafish.” Do I have to say “google it” anymore? Aren’t you curious about how much you don’t know?)

The sad thing about greed is its ignorance of barriers. Men, again, take great delight in stepping over barriers, obliterating them, or in the modern case, re-defiling them, redefining them, I mean. One of our billionaire’s first firings were Inspector Generals in all Departments, the guys who were already investigating corruption. DOGE says they weren’t doing the job, right, I guess, so now Federal investigations into Trump are closed, as are the investigations into Musk, For good measure, Musk took out the CFPB and ended their investigations, as well.

I love the smell of Rooting Out Corruption early in a pre-spring morning. Humor. Pre-Spring hilarity. But not a single word about Corruption from DOGE. Is it just me or do you NOT hear the word, too? Waste, fraud, and abuse. By the billions. Corruption? None.

Most of the biggest scams in American History were perpetrated by men. Madoff. The Entire 2008 Financial Disaster. Tammany Hall. Enron. The Teapot Dome Scandal. Jim Jones.

Here’s another funny part: according to politicians welfare cheats are ruining our beloved country. And that damn Health Care for all idea…gotta go.

Maybe I google too much. Or I’m even dumber than I know I think I am…

Time for some conclusions.

It’s Been A Bad Year…Thanks, Mr. Wright!

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2025 has not been kind. Yet. It might be though, right? Eventually?

It began well with a great lead in from December: hip replacement surgery ended years of pain, cancer is in remission, and AMD is stopped in its tracks. Great end to 2024 and lead in to “The Next Year.”

Hip recovery went swimmingly but New York’s 2025 weather prohibited a normal “scale-up” of activities. Venturing into winter weather with a new hip was compounded by the worst winter weather in upstate NY in 60 years. Outdoor recreational mobility/recovery was DENIED, even as the maintenance gurus of the apartment complex–the salters, shovelers, skid-steer operators who, bless their hearts—did yeoman’s work scraping out a few minutes a day for safe walking. What exactly is a “yeoman”? Be right back.

Yeoman: “a man holding and cultivating a small, landed, estate” among other things listed in the Oxford Dictionary.  Lots more, too.

Shortened story: stuck inside for months with a good hip and nowhere to go. But I did find an antidote to the malaise 2025 is intent on dropping me into: The wise words of Dr. Steven Wright. (I awarded him an honorary degree.) Dr. Wright told me through the printed collection of his sayings “Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.”

Hm.

Then Trump took office. I made a new year’s resolution not to write about him, but he does so much…how did he get elected? Maybe, per the good doc, “The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese”.  Think about it…

Dr. Wright: “Half the people you know are below average.” What? And an explanation: “82.47% of statistics are made up on the spot.” A concisely contemporary, pure propagation of punditry.

It’s concerning to me that our current political shenanigans don’t make me laugh, anymore. There must have been a very sad, recent shift in my attitude towards our political class. Un-humorous worry is a constant companion. Dr. Wright, help please?

““My mechanic told me, “I can’t repair you brakes so I made your horn louder.”” Note: Double quotation marks are grammatical, not ironic.

Perfect.

As a sidebar, he reminded me: “The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.”

Dr. Wright also helped me understand most of our current politicians, and how they can live with themselves: “A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.”

And for all of loyal, fanatical, know—it—all online Demoncrats and Repugnicans, “A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.”

No more politics. Back to me. New advice?

“The sooner you fall behind, the more time you have to catch up”, he offers.

Okay. I’m better. You?

Remember this, too, “Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.”

And if any of this did not make your day better, here’s consolation in Dr. Wright’s words: “If at first you don’t succeed, destroy all evidence you tried.”

Full disclosure: Steven Wright is not really a doctor, but he should play one on TV.

Next posting we will attempt to answer the age-old Wright question: “What is the speed of dark?”

Contributions and comments welcomed.

You Are an Idiot if…..

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I should use a different word than “idiot”. Idiots get defensive hearing the word and all hope of explaining why they are an idiot is lost. Let’s say “unsmart’. You are unsmart if…

  1. You use the word “libtard”. Basically, you’re unsmart if you don’t use your own words and thoughts in civil discourse. What’s unsmart about libtard is it shuts down the flow of conversation, much like idiot does. See? An extensive—but not complete—search of online comments has not found, yet, a liberal version of libtard, though many writers have tried, proving liberals can be unsmart, too, just not as creatively as conservatives.
  • You get your news from one source. While conservative sources are unabashedly biased and untruthful, it takes a more discerning mind to see where liberal news sources fail us. Look for snarky, unneeded adjectives and adverbs. (You are definitely NOT unsmart if you recognize those two words.) Liberal news will soon be as bad as conservative news as griping and complaining about everything is a proven ratings getter. Liberals are about a decade behind, but gaining fast, inspired by our 47th President.
  • You think you understand ANY of what’s currently happening in politics. Americans have always been, um…lazy in their election choices. Until their person loses. And the American Billionaires are constantly searching for new ways to divide us and raise profits. Google “Model Pricing” and see how companies are using it to make more profit per sale and reward the CEO’s better. Musk?
  • If you think you understand our economy. Federal Debt, Deficits, Expenditures, Outlays, etc. DOGGIE (sic) is currently trumpeting “the finding of billions of dollars of waste and fraud” when all they are really doing is stopping spending. Of note, every single dollar of that spending had been “approved” by at least one level of government so go after your elected reps, whoever they are, for the ones responsible. Look for long-term reps like Pelosi and McConnell. Google Pork, too. Rather, Pork Barrel.
  • You think fraud and waste are being discovered and prevented. They kind of are by virtue of NOT spending approved money, but what about the money already spent? I’ve talked with a number of business friends, and we all agree fraud is very rare in business, but waste is rampant. See, fraud is illegal if you get caught, but waste just makes you look stupid, if caught. One you go to jail, the other, you retire, buy a boat and Sail the Gulf of Trump. A smart, capitalist “entrepreneur” will choose waste, anytime, and it’s easy enough to do, just pay yourself more. Again, see Elon, he knows.
  • You think anything our government has done in the last eight years was to help you. If you benefited it was the “trickle down effect”, the leftovers the billionaires didn’t want. FYI: the preceding years were no bonanza, either, but how many remember?
  • You believe in SPECIFIC conspiracies. There are conspiracies out there but by their very nature we will never know about them. (Unless…you’re part of it?) So, if we do “know” about them…hmmm…wonder if some unsmart citizens are being manipulated? PizzaGate? Q-Anon? Eating cats and dogs in Ohio? The Kennedy assassination? Look away from those and try to find the real ones right under your nose. You won’t but at least you won’t be manipulated like sheep, either. Ignorance is bliss but it is easier to ignore something you don’t know about than worry about something you shouldn’t.

The whole deal is to KNOW you are not as smart as you think you are. Soooo many people today know everything about everything they stop learning, paying attention. And they don’t care if they are proved wrong. See: The Big Lie.

I guarantee if you think you are just smart enough, you’ll find a way to navigate normal life. And if you really, truly are smart, none of this matters, anyway, does it.

Quanda what?

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Quandary: “a state of perplexity, or uncertainty over what to do in a difficult situation, a dilemma.” So says the Oxford Dictionary.

Ever been in a quandary? Near one? Seen one from afar? Picture a mime trying to get out of a real box.

We all probably know what a quandary is, just never knew what to call it. If it helps, picture our modern world: one, big quandary. Dilemma. Perplexity.

Our country mired in a quandary is not new. The Civil War, Viet Nam. Nixon. September 11, 2001. The Spanish Flu. WWI. WWII. The Great Depression. The last, final, episode of “Friends”. To prevent depression, I’ll stop.

Quandary. The Oxford people say it comes from the late 16th century Latin word “quando”, which means “when”. So “when” became “quandary”? Thanks, Oxford, for a new perplexity. They do add an interesting chart showing how popular “quandary” has become over the centuries, with a plateau of usage in 2000. What did educated people use before quandary came along? Mess? Dilemma? Pile of crap? And why plateau at year 2000? Has the quantity of qualified quandaries declined in the last 20 years?

That fact proves there isn’t as much “perplexity” now as there used to be. Early days were probably nothing but quandaries. Imagine the first sunset? Did early man/woman know the sun would be back in a few hours or was he/she in a quandary, wondering where it went? What about when he/she had their first bowel movement? Did they think their insides were falling out? Talk about a dilemma. “Should we push it back in?”

Perfect segue into Donald Trump. He is a Master Quandary Maker. How perplexed must Republican voters and politicians have been to support him in the first election, let alone the second. Did any 2016 voters face the “dilemma” of voting for the felonious Trump in 2024? Were they perplexed? Dilemmed(sic)? Quandrasized(sic)? Uncertain?

It doesn’t appear they were. In fact, a feature of Trump support is the CERTAIN, unwavering, unperplexed knowledge that Trump is…something. What? What is Trump outside of politics? Is he a fabulously wealthy man, born with a silver spoon, who has never worked an honest day in his life? The Second Coming? A taller, hairier Napolean? A spray-tanned Mussolini? Putin’s long-lost brother?

Let’s go back to the original: he is quandary. Unperplexed American voters have ceded so much power to Trump, why is he not using it to remove all quandaries from our lives? Or at least his voters lives? Why isn’t he un-perplexing our perplexities? Why is he doing what he is doing? Does he need more money? Power? Maybe he just wants a good pizza. Or is it Melania, the new Nancy Reagan?

I surrender. It’s usually years before we can accurately assess the damage/benefit an American President effects over his/her (Sarcasm.) term in office.  It appears Trump is trying to write that assessment, now, after one month. Or at least keep anyone else from writing it, ever.

It’s hard to know what to make of it all. It’s a quandary. For those of us without any power over rich, selfish people, it’s more than a quandary: it is a disaster.

Happily, yes, happily, I’m old, almost out of it all, another benefit of old age.

Hallelujah.

Jackson Browne, a benefit of old age and progress

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From memory: music at age 10 (in 1960) was late night AM radio. At 13, it was a “box” record player for 45 rpm, two sided records, one song each side, A and B. At 15 it was a “monoaural” stereo placed next to the bed so sleep could be induced by listening to the big albums of Steppenwolf, The Troggs, The Kinks. The Kingsmen, and et.al. Age 17, a real stereo. At college, I learned how much sound ceiling-high, high-fidelity speakers could make, and how all my old favorites sounded “different”. Volume was important and if anyone complained, it was ignored and counted as an honor. 8 tracks, cassettes, Cds, MP3 and others followed, but I have no clue where the free music on Youtube comes from these days

The point I’m trying to get to (when not sidetracked by reminiscing), is music seemed to have evolved over time in partnership with the devices offering the sounds. Hmph. That’s not really the point but it helps to know because now—at this late stage in my life—I’ve been exposed to the wonderful world of ear buds. Good ear buds. They’re not new to me, but the ones I tried costing less than $300, never seemed to work good. (Well?) Same with headphones.

So I went back to listening as if in college: naked and close to the speaker with volume on 11. And I meant a “naked” ear, juveniles.

In 1970-something, Jackson Browne “dropped” an album we now refer to as “Saturate Before Using”, even though…long story for later. Let’s go with that title. Google it if you’re curious. The record had some good songs but nothing that made the record worth buying after hearing AM radio, and juke boxes. My disinterest did not stop Jackson and he continued to make records and two years later “For Everyman” hooked me. It got worn it out over the next 5 years or so.

 Then, I lost track of music, hearing it in the background, but not asking it to come forward and be the focal point of life. It was just there. Important note: there was all kinds of good music coming from good musicians (Eagles? Fleetwood Mac?) in the years between the late 1970s and when music reintroduced itself decades late, at my retirement. Not working gave me free time.

Let me end this because you’re drifting away…in 2023, while being treated for cancer, I accidentally purchased a pair of ear buds for $19, They were so fantastic they changed everything about music and life. No hyperbole.

Then, the ear buds got ahold of Jackson’s “Saturate Before Using”. The intricacy and flourishes, and backing sounds, and bass lines, the drums, and the shear musical craftsmanship coming from those ear buds brings me back to The Chair EVERY DAY, for at least an hour of music. And each time, there is something new and wonderful in songs I’ve listened to for many years but never really heard. Thank you, Ear Buds, and the company which finally decided to sell them at a decent price. (Not naming the company, but they know who they are. Call me?)

          Besides Jackson’s songs, find “Melissa” by Greg Allman with Jackson Brown. “Harvest Moon” by both Neil Young, (who wrote it) and a cover by The Brothers Comatose. And “River of Dreams” by Billy Joel. Find these songs, sit in your favorite chair, plug in your GOOD ear buds, and “Drift Away”…and find your own music.

Some bad things?

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It is a curse to be self-aware, especially if you don’t know it.

The title refers to things about myself that I don’t notice. They get put in a pile, get forgotten (really: ignored) and then sooner or later, they get addressed. It is later, now.

I don’t really mind other drivers: it’s the yelling at life, I like. You “no-signalling turners” and “stop-at-yield-sign” drivers are not as irritating as you might think. They simply “release the hounds” of profanity. Since it happens in an empty car, with the windows rolled up, there is deniability built in if the other driver chases me down and has a Glock.

Things fall all around me for no reason, making me pick them up. I curse them with the common lament of the persecuted: “Why me?” It does help when other people my age say they feel the same. It doesn’t end the feeling of persecution, though, and I might rather enjoy that, too. (See above paragraph.)

When things are going good for me, I make the mistake of saying out loud a phrase that acts as a trigger and ruins the mood. Can anyone guess what the phrase is? It is the universal wail of the optimist who is skeptical: “Something bad’s gonna happen, soon.”

My life (which is probably at least similar to yours) is comprised of different moods, and I feel like wearing an apology sign for all those who get in my way when I’m in my Bad Mood (BM…please don’t confuse it with doody.) In a BM a slow clerk is the End of the World, and society is coming apart. In a BM the slightest grammatical error, the slightest slight from a public servant, the lack of efficiency of a waitress makes me start planning an underground bunker with lots of frozen pizzas.

But in a Good Mood (GM, no not the car company), those events listed, above, make me smile, and wonder what the future holds for the guilty person. At the grocery store this morning, I used a real person for checkout since there was only one man in front of me with a small order. But when it came time to pay, that’s when he took out his voluminous wallet and started counting out bills, and then change. Oddly, I felt the line growing behind me more than I felt the usual annoyance of being slowed down, AND I felt sorry for the old gentleman. What is happening to me????

Here’s another Bad Thing. I feel so good this morning I wrote a nasty, “let’s end things” text to the woman who screwed me over this past summer. As a good, decent man I had been trying to save a 21 year relationship but suddenly decided to believe–and act on–what my friends liked to say about her: “She is a cruel, selfish bitch.” Oddly, sending the “close the door on all possibility” text made me feel better.

I do not look my age. Two doctors this week, alone, who had not read my file yet, accused me of being “Mid-50 years old”. One last month thought my 50-year-old daughter was my wife. You probably can’t see the problem, so I’ll explain: I look too young for woman my age, but am factually too old for women the age I look like. If you’re married or in a committed relationship you won’t understand. But try and imagine being a 72-year male back on the market, back on the prowl. I tried a dating site for a few days but stopped because it took too long to prove the profile picture was recent. One “lady” (the quotation marks will be explained in the next sentence) asked for a pic of my birth certificate. With hindsight, she was probably a Nigerian Romance Scammer. Maybe I should have just lied and looked for younger women. Imagine, too, a 72 year-old woman being “accosted” by a 55 year old man asking for a date. (No, I have not encountered any Cougars in Upstate NY, they all moved to Florida.)

It’s too bad a GM can’t just be enjoyed. And a BM ignored. But it is much better to be alive and aware, than lost in The Calamities and eternal doom. A close, younger friend just learned he needs a pacemaker. The news saddened me at first, but then the news sidled up next to what the worst could be and life got back to balance for him, and for me as an accessory to the fact.

With all the bad that can happen, balance is heaven.

Lets Have Some Pun!

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The New Year Resolutions haven’t been going so well. Let’s talk about them later, okay? The first week of the New Year has not been kind to mental happiness as upstate NY suffered though a “lake effect” storm where someone (Mother Nature? God? The Buffalo Bills?) dropped snow on us every day, and blew it around like drunken confetti. We are still under a State Of Emergency prohibiting “unnecessary travel”. I watched the entire debacle from The Chair positioned in front of my huge apartment windows and enjoyed every second of the first few days. Now, in Day 6, it is time for necessary travel. Anywhere.

One last thing, people sure are interesting (30 percent?). One guy brushed snow off his car (it’s a northern thing) in his shorts. It was 6 degrees out and he didn’t last long. Another decided “no necessary travel” was not “no travel” and rocked his car back and forth in a parking lot drift until giving up and not coming back for two days. People did all sorts of strange things and the snow removing machines worked round the clock. Mother Nature just sent more.

So for Christmas I got a book and, yes, I read a lot when the parking action was slow. A lot. The book is titled: “Learn a Lot While You’re on the Pot”, by Jack Haynes. Without breaking a resolution, I’ll just say as we age, bowel movements seem to-how to say this–take their time. It’s a senior thing younger readers will learn eventually, but Mr. Haynes has capitalized on that “slowness” to offer a tidy book about all sorts of things. It’s 136 pages on 5 million (I exaggerate) subjects so it’s not comprehensive as much as pithy in its prose. It makes it easy to finish a topic or two before…you know.

My favorite sections is entitled : “Best Puns and Wordplay”. Let the games begin with an obvious groaner: “I once gave a performance about it Puns. It was just a play on words.”

Some puns only work when they are typed: “My friend became a vegetarian, even after I told him it was a big missed steak.” Say it out load to someone and they just stare at you. Like: “Once you’ve seen one shopping center you’ve seen a mall.” Or: “Did you hear about the explosion at the cheese factory? All that’s left is de-brie.”

Some are better spoken: “The future, the past, and the present walked into a bar. Things got a little tense.” You may have to wait for that spark of recognition on that one, but it’s worth it. Or: “I told my wife to embrace her mistakes and she gave me a hug.”

Sadly, there are some clunkers: “What do you call fake spaghetti? Im-pasta.” Ugh. “My son says he’s friends with only 25 letters of the alphabet, He doesn’t know y.”

Related: “My daughter said that after she ate alphabet soup she had a vowel movement.”

I’ll end this torture with my two favorites: “It’s been a terrible winter for Humpty Dumpty. But at least he had a great fall.” And, maybe not so much funny as apt: “I’ve discovered that where there’s a will, there’s a relative.”

Crap. One more: “Did you here about the toilet that was stolen from the Police Department? The cops have nothing to go on.”

Hope this helped any of those who were trapped at home with themselves, or even worse, family. Just remember: “Don’t let anyone call you average. That’s just mean.”

Words, but different ones…

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When you view life as a certain state of being and allow its eccentricities to be the fabric of your existence, beginnings and endings fade away. The nature of eternity, endless space, and a higher power greater, even, than the sum of all in this known world, yields an understanding maybe not quite right but inherently capable of satisfying human inquisitiveness.

So it is when you enter the world of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, written by John Koening, and published in 2021. My internet friend, Wikipedia, says it is an “English word-construction project seeking to coin and define neologisms (new words) for emotions not yet described in language.” The author apparently started the project when he could not find the right words to use in his poetry. American ingenuity at its finest, yes?

You should do your own research, trust me, but here are some of my favorites, including “sonder”, the original word which tickled my fancy so much a rush to the bathroom was required to avoid dampening my boxers. I’ve paraphrased definitions to fit more in, but take a look at the book and website of the same name for more mental exercise and amusement.

SONDER: “noun, the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own–populated with their own ambitions, friends, worries and as much inherited craziness as your own.”

EISCE: noun, “the awareness of the infinitesimal role you play in shaping your own society.”

KENAWAY: noun, “the longing to see how other people live their lives when they’re not in public”.

Hm. These three words, alone, distill years and paragraphs of college dorm room discussions into three nouns. At least for a private, Liberal Arts school. It’s fun to imagine, too, how new words describe things new to humankind. Imagine a caveman feeling any of these words, and wondering “is it just me?”

As modern life exponentially grows in complexity, it makes sense we need new words to describe the mental, emotional, and physical realities humans encounter as they grow with it, but is it socially efficient to simply make up or own words? Fick, (sic) if I know.

I do know that if everyone sondered* more the world would be a better place. If everyone was aware of their eisce we’d be a humbler, intelligent society instead of one full of minor, local dictators trying to change reality. And if kenaway becomes a legal defense for peeping,…”Your honor, I was simply kenawaying*.”

The best part of the whole word discussion is…the discussion, the dialogue. New words, old words, it matters only if we understand them, use them, and share them in thoughtful, humane conversations, sog sam it.

The only true fear is for grammar and punctuation. A world with new words, misplaced commas, no periods, and an epidemic of dangling participles will be the end of us all.

*I’ve always hated turning a noun into a verb, but it’s so much fun…

Pay Attention. Please.

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Years ago, I played tennis at a park surrounded by walking trails, swimming pools, and soccer fields. It was a beautiful place. One noticeable figure was an elderly, rail thin man in shorts and a backpack walking hurriedly around the trails with his two walking sticks swinging by his side. Why didn’t he swim or play tennis or disc golf, like the rest of us?

Socrates is given the credit for saying “the unexamined life is not worth living”. He said that, what, 2,000 years ago? Or more? But who does examine life?

I do. I’ve always paid attention to the world and where I fit or if I fit at all. My memory, is not eidetic, but details are noticed and often stick in my mind for no reason.

I watched The Price is Right the other morning. They have a game where a stick figure hiker climbs a stick mountain with every wrong answer by a contestant, until the stick figure falls off the top of the mountain and the player loses. That stick figure looked just like the old man walking from the past.

So what? As age has imposed its will, I’ve made adjustments: from singles tennis at a young age, to an aggressive doubles game, covering the entire court. Then to a doubles game covering only my half, and–at age 72–simply hoping to hit back any ball hit to me. At each stage the slow progression was apparent and the requisite adjustments made by design, with the knowledge someday…well…

When The Calamities hit last year, the requisite adjustment was to plan–and hope–for a life of walking. I’d always have my mobility, at least.

It was then The Price Is Right man from the past came back into focus and his reason for walking. I understood. And I am, now, at the stage of life he was, then.

One of the best things about being old and out of service is the extra time you have to examine life, to notice things. To pay attention. To learn. There is no longer any reason not to, except fear. But when I ask others if they examine their life the usual answer is “What?”, with the occasional “Why?”

None of it makes any difference, anyway. Whenever a weighty, important, monumental thought tries to invade my brain it also helps to remember this: in 150 years, everyone now alive on this planet will be dead and gone.

How’s that for examining life?