and some days you're the ball

On the day that Gabby Giffords is flown to Houston for rehabilitation (no not THAT rehab) I reflect on that day January 8, 2011 because it is also my and Elvis’ birthday. Gabby and I are still alive, Elvis is gone. Elvis would have been 76. I turned 65 and we have nothing in common except a birthday. The 9th of January is Richard Nixon’s birthday and I don’t know why I mention this except to keep all the Capricorns in a row. So milestones are times to reflect, 21,30,40,50 and now 65. What a ride it has been. Rather than bore you with “…I remember when…” I would rather look ahead a little including looking at right now, Friday. A good chunk of my memories are selective and are probably muddled from all the drugs I sampled during those years so it would be pointless to rehash them. What I am paying attention to these days are the AARP ads and those stupid house morphing ads for Cialis because the “time is right.” Isn’t there a law against that? I mean, what if you are on public transit? No matter.

In my declining years I still get my heart pumping over some of the insanities that come out of Washington or worse, on the airways. Can I do something about it? Sometimes I feel I can’t do anything about it and check to see if my Irish passport is current just in case I get a desire to move to the E.U. Other times I feel like I should write about stuff on this blog thing just to get a reaction from people. Sometimes this works and other times it doesn’t. So much for that. I have noticed that I take in each day as it comes as a blessing and a grace. When I wake up each morning to let the dog out I am surprised. I am surprised that I am alive enough to take the dog out. That means I have yet something to do. When I sit down in front of the computer, fire up Final Cut Pro and work on my present video task I now have purpose. That’s a grace. Clearing out the 40 or so “spam” replies from my blog everyday is a grace. Watching from a distance as my wee girl Sarah falls slowly in love with a good Portland guy is a grace. My life is simple albeit connected. So far, so good as I superstitiously knock on wood. So now off to do things I am still capable of doing. It’s all a grace.

and so it goes…