Yep!

I am olderly.

I don’t like to accept that,

but, realistically,

I have to admit that.

This December 12th,

I fall over the edge of the middle of my 70’s

and totter on towards 80.

(For those of you who don’t get esoteric math,

I finish my 76th year in two months)

So I guess I’ve actually, already,

reached the cliff part

but there’s something about just saying the number –

76-

that jolts me into the reality of older-ly-ness.

But, here, (my dear Horatio)

is the rub.

I have a soul who’s eternal

but who’s been hanging around

this particular iteration of me

for these (almost) 76 years,

learning to like the body

he/she/they

‘ve been housed in

like we like to like the fit of

an old recliner around our asses!

Creaky, with one spring slightly bent,

but comfy, Ya know?

And like the particular point of view

my half blind-ness since birth

has given me…

(I have no vision in my right eye.

Premature…retro-lental-fibro-plasia, etc)

so I have an anatomical-psysiological excuse

for my left-wing-views on stuff.

And, I’m growing more “hard of hearing”,

Well, according to my wife,

“Deaf!!!!”

as I get olderly,

but the thing is,

my soul and I enjoy the quieting of our existence,

of living in our cacophonous world

with the volume turned WAY DOWN!

In restaurants, I point to the prime rib on the menu

and eat it in peace instead of listening to

Sally’s demo of a faked orgasim as a lesson for Harry’s ego.

Watching TV, I am free to NOT USE the remote

to silence those damn chaotic commercials

that SCREAM!!! about how much better is their method of installing a new

septic tank…

or how muchmoretasty is this NEW Coke…

And as God once sang in a George Burns song,

“If I have to run, I simply don’t go!”

So my soul is conflicted between

waiting less and less patiently for

her/his/their prison walls to finally crumble,

allowing escape to what ever

“in heavens name’

comes next,

or

holding on for dear life

to what ever sturdy bones remain in my body

to be able to,

well,

sense

the world through my particular, peculiar portals of information from the outside.

For instance:

The taste of Nancy’s skin on my lips.

The joy of a good laugh,

generated by my singular point of view,

like just to the left of Stephen Wrights.

So,

yeah, yeah, we know!

It’s impossible to forever forestall

the inevitable.

But!

Wow!

The feeling in my balls when Nancy

just slightly touches them, in passing,

as she rolls from her back to her right side to face me!

(And Oh! that vision of her lovely curve from her hip, down and up to her shoulder)

and while still asleep,

the smiles at me!

Well!

I don’t know how much better it gets than that!

And I don’t think my soul’s

all that anxious

to find out!