Wild pitches.....

Curve balls. Stolen bases. Wild pitches.

Life's analagous relationship to sports comes naturally, doesn't it? It's one reason I love to watch competition on the field of play. (Another one is the fact that I can watch huge, muscular men in tight uniforms, but that makes me sound creepy, so let's move on.)

As we age, we learn never to leave the room until the game is over. Even if the home team is down by 10 at the beginning of the ninth inning. Wellsprings of strength can be tapped, the tide turns, and there goes the scoreboard, reflecting what no one would have thought possible mere minutes before.

Much like our lives. Just when we think we have everything under control, here comes that wild pitch, knocking us out of the batter's box--or even to the ground. But, like the player knocked on his butt in the dust, we must get up, too. Unexpected events demand fortitude, courage, and faith in ourselves, a surety that grows the more innings we play.

Recently, I lost a contract that provided 95% of my income. Luckily this isn't the first time I've had to dodge a ball. My teeth rattled when I hit the ground, but I got back up and dusted myself off before the next pitch left the pitcher's glove.

This kind of assurance is only attained over the course of time; time and the resultant knowledge that we are capable of facing and handling whatever life throws at us. When we are young and new in a game, every curve ball or wild pitch seem like a catastrophe. The experiences, however, can lend us cumulative strength as we mature.

As long as we pay attention over time, learn to trust ourselves, and above all, stay in the game.

“Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records."

Anti-ci-pation......

Anti-ci-pation......

Anti-ci-pation......

You remember that song, right? I think it was Carly Simon who was lamenting that anticipation was makin' her late and keeping her waitin', but that refrain is dominating my mind right about  now.
Oh, you want to know why (or what) I'm anticipating? Let me share.....

A week from today, almost to the minute as I write this, I'll be boarding a ship for a 7 day cruise to the southern Caribbean. Heaven.....

Worth a little anticipating, as far as I'm concerned.

Some folks, upon learning of my upcoming trip, look at me aghast, wondering why I would agree to get on a CRUISE ship! Don't they run aground a lot, or lose power due to on board fires, or forget how to back up? How about diseases that run rampant throughout the ship way out there in the middle of the ocean, with no easy escape?

Well, yes...all of that could happen, I imagine. But I know an intersection near my house that makes Daytona Speedway look like a senior citizens' exhibition, and I still travel it every day. And even though planes fall out of the sky once in a while, I get on one occasionally if I want to get where I need to be.

In other words, I play percentages. The chances of disaster befalling ME on the cruise I chose are miniscule, taking into considering the number of voyages these ships make with no incidents at all. Could it happen? Sure, but I'm betting on the side of most likely not.

And I've learned, since I've reached the point in my  life where I can take some trips like this, that the anticipation of the journey is almost as fun as the actual voyage. We booked about three weeks ago, and ever since we've noted the number of days on the calendar in a variety of ways: 

"Do you realize that two weeks from RIGHT NOW we'll be boarding the ship??!"  

"Seven nights from tonight we'll be dancing in the night club on the cruise!!"

"It's only five days until we'll be arriving in [name of port] to take the sightseeing tour!"

 Anti-ci-pation......

And the other thing I learned from my previous cruises is that the actual event lives up to all this pre-excitement, something that is not always the case. No phones, no computer, no demands at all: just people waiting on me hand and foot, lots of quiet time to read, write, snooze, whatever I choose to do. As I have aged, I have become a world-class cloud-watcher, with the ability to sit and do absolutely nothing for long periods of time, with no guilt about it at all. For someone like me, a former Type A personality, that is huge. And wonderful. 

And a cruise plays to that new ability. 


A writer has to write, though, so I'll keep a journal and share some of my experiences on the cruise when I return, especially for those of you who think I'm a little crazy for getting on that ship to begin with.


Anti-ci-pation......

“Oh the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!"

Dr. Suess

Looking for trouble......

You know that quirky finger move that expands your cell phone screen, the one that uses the thumb/forefinger action on the diagonal? I hear even some four-year olds have it down, no problem.

Me? Haven't mastered it yet for some reason.

Come to think of it, why would I want to make some of the images in my life bigger, anyway? Don't I have enough to grapple with, even on a good day?

Like last Friday. My accountant swore a couple of months ago that the IRS would repay me the $1500+ overpayment from the first quarter of this year. She even recounted a conversation she had with the nice person she spoke to about that money, the dollars and cents I desperately need right about now. It would only take about eight weeks, they promised.  (Stop laughing....I can hear you through my computer screen, and it isn't comical.)

I opened my mailbox and was ecstatic to get that envelope on Friday, and almost got in my car to take it to the bank right there on the spot. Wait, I thought.....I'd better open it first.

$1.35.   

Yep. Just a tad short, and it probably cost them more than that to mail the darn thing.

Then there are the two cats in my house (out of the three that grace us with their presence) who need either drops in the eye or an antibiotic down the throat a few times a day. Each. The one with the eye problem has proven to be cooperative--for the most part--but the other one? Oh, my.

Picture a baby who doesn't want that yucky orangish-yellow squash that you airplaned into his mouth, no matter what funny noises you make as you stick that spoon in his mouth. He's not falling for it. So, what does he do? He takes that tongue and pushes it right out onto the floor (and you if you sit too close), none of it reaching its destination.

I have had cats let it ooze out of the side of their mouth, or jump down and throw it up as they walk away with great dignity. But never have I seen this. I swear he morphs into a human baby as that tongue starts pushing the food out of his mouth, along with the expensive antibiotic. Fun on a Friday, I can tell you.

Oh, there was more last week, but you get the picture. We all have these days, right? Nothing even remotely looks sane for a 24 hour period, and we wonder what we did to upset the universe. All we want is for it to stop. And, at my age, I know that it has happened before, and it will certainly happen again.

So, you all go ahead and make those images in your life BIGGER. I'd like some movement like that one that diminishes the trouble that seems to find me every once in a while, so if you have any cute devices that accomplish that, let me know.

The biggest cause of trouble in the world today is that the stupid people are so sure about things and the intelligent folks are so full of doubts.”

Bertrand Russell



Stymied, stumped, perplexed......

I'm stymied.  Perplexed.  Stumped, in other words.

You would think that by the time one reaches 60+ that just about everything that can happen would have by now....wouldn't you?

You would be wrong, my young friends. After all, that's why this series of revelations was started many months ago: To enlighten younger people about the vagaries of getting older, especially in a society that affords little respect to age (unless it's bourbon or wine, but that's a story for another day).

Without implicating those who have wandered innocently into my life, I must admit that I'm in a quandry right now. The "scratching my head, tossing a coin, asking the uninvolved for advice, even reading tea leaves" brand of dilemma of a sort that I have never encountered. Or at least I haven't for a very long time.

I guess if we embrace the designation of "Active Masters" (instead of  "the aged" or "senior citizen"), we are keeping ourselves smack in the middle of the flow of life, instead of sitting in a rocking chair gathering cobwebs until the hearse shows up. And life is messy, no matter at what age it is flowing around you.

And sometimes you get drenched, whether you are 16, 36, or 63. It's messy, that's for sure. There will be rocks hidden under the surface.

But I'll take a little disarray or a scraped knee over creaking boredom on my front porch any day.

Youth, large, lusty, loving Youth, full of grace, force, fascination.
Do you know that Old Age may come after you with

equal grace, force, fascination?Walt Whitman

I can but I don't want to......

I can hit a softball pretty good.

I can shoot a basketball and get it near the net at least.

I can organize and pull off an event, from a parent's sports meeting to a church social and everyone will have a great time.

I can park outside a VERY large discount store that sounds like an amusement park and walk all the way to the back to buy, well, whatever they sell back there in the mists.

But I don't want to.

And by the time one reaches my age, we have the right to say that. No excuses, no diversionary tactics, no verbal deflections. Simply, "I don't want to do that."

We no longer have much to prove to others, or, perhaps more importantly, to ourselves. I know my strengths, and I got to be a master at them. Sometimes I still even enjoy participating in the activity once it starts, but the planning, the internal stress, the snafus that always happen, I don't miss those at all.

So, I step aside and let the younger folks knock themselves out. I sit in my hot tub, or go dancing, or sit on the dock and watch the clouds pass by overhead in the sky. I'll be glad to offer my advice, if I am asked, but other than that, I have better things to do.....or not. The choice is mine.

I also shop at stores that only park about 20 vehicles.