Category Archives: Life

Friday Musings 01-13-2006

By lex

January 13, 2006

 

 

This may meet or exceed the previous record for brevity. Just so you know.

Where to start?

There are at least 10 11-year old girls in the house right now, on consequence of there having been a girl scout meeting for the Kat’s gang, or claque, or junta, or whatever they call themselves, augmented just at supper time by another set of 11-year olds, who came to house for an entirely separate social reason. You would not credit the noise they can make, gentle reader, when you mix them together, nor the frequency at which they can make it.

give. OK?

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No Good Deed…

Sometimes you have to laugh at life. I think sooner or later, most of you have been in this situation.

You are patiently standing in line at the supermarket, and (a) a LOL (that’s Little Old Lady for the purposes of this post, or (b) young mother with screaming kids, or (c) anybody else – is right behind you with 1 or 2 items.

So you offer to let them ahead of you, anticipating a quick transaction and a little appreciation.

Only they need a price check, or write a check, are arguing about a price, or….

And you are tied up for the next 5-10 minutes. Or more. I think with a bit of creativity that scene could become a Michael Palin or John Cleese skit.

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Judgment Day

By Lex

Posted on December 30, 2005

 

You want to feel judged? Evaluated? Sifted and weighed?

Placed in a box?

Then let your 14-year old daughter, who has recently taken a fancy to vinyl records and record players sort through your collection of music from Back in the Day.

Your complete collection of the Beatles albums brings with it a kind of grudging admiration. Eyebrows are raised at the sight of your Bob Marley collection, too. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young confer credibility upon you as well. You momentarily bond over Fleetwood Mac. Your chest swells a bit at this unlikely bit of appreciation. But nothing lasts forever, alas:

Not withstanding the worlds coolest album covers, the sight of the Molly Hatchet collection does nothing for your standing, and your stock starts to plummet as she breezes quickly past the Charlie Daniels Band albums you bought when, for 35 seconds, southern country and rock successfully fused – in your mind anyway – into southern rock. You can only shrug as with a quizical look, seeking some explanation, she pulls out the soundtrack for Urban Cowboy. You try to explain that “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas seemed to really have some sort of deeper meaning that was just out of reach back in the late ’70s, but she’s clearly not sold. By the time she gets to a seemingly endless series of Genesis/Phil Collins platters you just sit there in the corner softly weeping, hoping that the humiliation will soon end.

Sic transit gloria.

 

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Just for the record

By Lex

Posted on April 10, 2006

 

Been doing some of that cross-training thing. Trying not so much to turn back the hands of time as slow them down, just a little. Running, cycling, swimming and a little bit of weights thrown in for good measure. It’s been working, too.

Three weeks ago I went back to my collegiate roots, found a local fencing club, hit the piste.

Starting to, you know: Regret it.

Turns out that a couple three generations of younger fencers have come up since last I was at the nationals. Some of them quite good. Some of them right here in Sandy Eggo. And the first week I was reminded of leg muscles that you don’t use for anything else, except for fencing. Vividly reminded. And then last week I got back spasms trying to keep from falling after 25-year old synapses wrote a check 45-year old legs are apparently unable to cash. That was with me all week.

This growing old gig? It’s not for sissies.

But tonight? Tonight was the worst yet.

Because just for the record? A sabre cut to the wedding tackle is this whole other class of pain.

Ouch.

Ouch-ouch-ouchOUCH!

 

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Spring Cleaning

By Lex

Posted on March 18, 2006

 

If there is anything more depressing to a middle aged man than finally getting around to the cleaning out from his closet the accumulated detritus of 20-odd years sartorial selection, I do not wish to know of it. A soul-crushing quantity of things that 1) I can no longer wear, 2) wouldn’t wear on a bet or 3) all of the above drove home to me in repeated hammer blows that not only am I no longer the man I once was but that even when I was I didn’t make much of it.

The Goodwill Store, is all that’s left to salvage a shred of dignity.

Feh.

 

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This is going to be hard

By lex

Posted on December 21, 2005

We’re doing our own Christmas dinner tonight, before heading east tomorrow. We’ll do a dinner there too, but it’ll be different than the usual family reunion and good cheer. Most of you know why.

I guess a part of me is still in the denial phase. If I don’t go home, if I don’t see, it won’t be true. But it is true, and there’s no more putting it off so I’m going home tomorrow, and then I guess we will see.

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So yesterday I was feeling kind of low

By lex

Posted on December 18, 2005

 

Because my middle sister had called and told me that the doctors were saying that the prognosis was “pretty grim” and that we ought to “prepare ourselves.” And although it’s been a while since we’ve heard the doctors say those kinds of things, it hasn’t been forever and we remember, oh yes we remember well, and so we knew exactly what he was saying when he said, “Let’s give it another 24-48 hours and then we’ll see,” which means that there’s nothing they can do any more and it’s all in God’s hands, unless you don’t believe in God, in which case I guess that means that there’s nothing anyone can do.

Nothing ventured nothing gained though, and so I pulled out the BCP which I’ve got a copy laying around and turned to page 458, the results of which you see on the post immediately preceding this one and gave it a rip and then when I was done asked the kids to give it a try if they didn’t mind because what could it hurt and anyways I’d leave the room while they thought about it, but I’d heard once that the prayers of a child go straight to heaven and she’s my sister, the one who held us all together when our parents died and that was a long time ago but you never forget how it felt, and who was there beside you.

And then I put it up there on a post last night after, because some of you would read it and what could it hurt? If you don’t put much stock in that sort of thing, I’m sorry to have bothered you, but as I said, she’s my sister.

And this morning the other sister called again and said that she’d good news for a change, that Ann’s bloodwork had stabilized and now they could give her some treatments for the things that ail her, which was better than before when there was nothing that they could do and they’d all but washed their hands of her. Cause for hope at last, although we are warned not to hope too gladly for there is much left to do and many ways that things could go wrong along the way, and we are nothing like out of the woods but where there is life there is hope. And there is also faith and there is also love, so these three at least remain.

The greatest of these of course, being love.

(I promise I’ll leave off this soon, realizing that it’s not why you come here, but for the moment I beg you that you might indulge me.)

 

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