I’m Doing Old Wrong

How is it that I've managed to make it to this age but it's as though I've landed on an alien planet? I don't know how to properly old. 

One—I don’t know what pickle ball is. Okay, really? I googled it the first time I came across it—it’s something that the fossils do in that planned old white people town in Florida. You know, the place where everyone drives around in golf carts and votes for any idiot that Fox tells them to. Yeah, it’s ground zero for gullible, scared, too-much-money-not-enough-sense, pasty ass Americans who’ve lost or never had a penny’s worth of logical cognition.

Alright, what were we talking about? Pickle ball. I don’t need to know what that is. No, not even now that I’m old enough to do whatever it is.

Two—Due to the plague, (and my crap health) I haven’t had a haircut in over two years. No, I don’t have long flowing locks. My head looks more like a shaggy mess of uneven, ultra thin bunny fur, interrupted by a Boston map’s worth of surgical scars.

My crown is radically haphazard in length due to one quarter of it being shaved for surgery last year. FYI, I look WAY less punked out now than I did in September of last year. Now I’m, at best, disheveled. I wouldn’t mind the uneven lock lengths at all—I just need to get this bunny fur out of my damn eyes. I wonder how I’d look with a mohawk. Maybe a BLUE mohawk? Oh yeah babies!

Ten tells me the punk look is no longer in fashion. Hmmph!

Three—I’ve never been much into card or board games. Isn’t that something seniors do? If we still lived in Cambridge, I could go up to Harvard Square and play chess outside the Au Bon Pain. Only problem here is that I’ve not played in a thousand years and, even back then, I wasn’t what anyone could consider talented. Not an interesting or in any way challenging opponent, I.

Four—Birdwatching—that seems like it might be fun. To be honest though, I’m perfectly content to gaze at our local seagulls, crows and those ungodly loud fucking bluejays. I’m unmotivated to hobble out to some patch of woods to wait for some rando tit to come along. I’d rather just look at Stonekettle’s pics online. OK, cross that off my list.

Five—Baking? HAH! Not only does this not interest me in the slightest, NO one wants to consume anything I’ve baked. Real and true, mes amis.

Six—Knitting? See baking. I like the idea of it. I imagine it as some zen activity and I bet it is for a lot of folks. Me? Nope.

Seven—Teevee? Eh, I like the shows I watch at weekend tea time with Jen and Oni (right now? Star Trek and more of it!) but, apart from that, I just can’t be bothered. Daddy, after he retired and lost interest in much else, watched a lot of news shows and dramas. Meh. I'd rather read.

I feel like I should’ve planned better for this age of decrepitude. You know, developed a greater array of skills or interests. I like walking (NOT hiking), reading, watching the waves and naps—naps are grand. So is dark chocolate.

Now that I’m starting to become a bit more stable on my pins, maybe I could begin painting again. I no longer have the strength to build big canvases BUT 24”x36” heavy paper would be doable.