Sunday, July 1, 2012

Who Cares?

First it was just those patches of whiskers that I would miss. I always stared in bemusement at old men who seemed to leave random regions of their necks and faces unshaved. I suppose that I always took it as a sign of freedom from the rigors of bother. I'll bet that Robert Mitchum missed wide expanses at the end.

At any rate I never thought that the day would come for me. Well, it did. It came quickly, too. The music's often too loud for me now, too. I no longer worry about what women who could be my daughter are thinking about me. Now it's women who could be my granddaughter. They're probably considering offering me help to cross the street.

At least I'm me. What you see is what you get. I try to tell the truth as I know it and I try not to judge others. I've never gotten too good at anything. I suppose that will keep you in an acceptable range of humility. People are good to me and I'm glad. I look forward to whatever's next.

1 comment:

  1. Boy, have I got a blog for you, coming up as soon as I write it. No longer do I have those missed patches, and I ain't talkin electrolysis. snacks