Life in the 70s
This article has been updated to 2022
Okay. I've had my share of coffee this morning, albeit it isn't Dunkin' Donut coffee, but Folgers. I haven't ventured out yet. I mean the sun is coming up and I'm not sure if I should hit the batting cages or go for a bike ride on my new $550-Alibi Sport, a nice little ride for the senior citizen, complete with "no-flats-ever" tires. I mean, all I have to do is go back to the bike shop when I'm 82 and get a new set of tires.
Ride baby ride!
At 77, I refuse to be put on the mantel as a "remember when dude" whose relatives think the old codger is done and has nothing left to say that would be of any interest. I'm half joking, of course. They know I'm around somewhere, just not on the sofa looking for my next ailment.
Once in a while, I'll meet up with an old friend who faces the same dilemma. I mean, after all, "we" grew up in the 1950s, back in the push-button Edsel days, Elvis and Conway Twitty...and, oh well, you get the picture.
It's tough getting old and wanting to be noticed. Our government is just waiting for individuals like me to pass on, so they can avoid sending out a social security check, which is the money I earned between the ages of 16 and 62. Yep, I gave it all up and retired early, right after a quadruple heart attack.
My problem is that little, obnoxious kid inside my antique brain. I mean that little fella in my head will not shut up. I guess I refuse to go quietly...even though I have to do my talking on my laptop, instead of sitting across from someone fifty years younger who is just starting out on the battered path I have already been down.
The good news, is that I am Old, but I have finally stopped to smell the roses, unfortunately, there are only my handful of readers that take the time, sit back and enjoy a cup of Folgers, or, if they have moved up in the world have the option to brew a cup in a Keurig coffee pot and read my ramblings. Yes, I know! Do not call it a pot.
Sadly, I don't have more oldtimers reading my ramblings every morning, but most of them are not ready to invest in a device that does so many things, so fast that it makes your head swim. But deep down, the old codgers know exactly where I'm coming from. All of them, have had a wonderful life without a laptop or a computer. My goodness, in the long run, it's probably better that way.
Nowadays, you have to research what you watch on television. What channel and what network gives you a certain slant on things. That's politics and I'm simply politically incorrect. So I don't venture there. There is plenty of sports to keep me adrift.
Don't get me wrong. I love this world and all the people in it. Anyone can tell by my writings that I love every character that walks the face of the Earth.
I know I'm an ancient relic. I'm not sure those two words go together. But what the heck. At my age, if I can get away with some incorrectness, I will.
I love the present. I hope I can remain in it for a while longer. In some ways, I'm just learning about life. Something has kicked in recently and I have already warned my readers of the fact.
Don't get me wrong. I love the past as in the 1950s, the 1960s, and the 1970s. Such good times. I can't believe I wasn't fond of elementary school, junior high, and high school. Now, I look back and I miss it. I ran into a high school buddy and a good friend from those "fun" days the other day. He showed up at the ballpark to watch me and a bunch of old-timers play the game of baseball. It was a special treat and it took me back to a time and place that I wish I could return to.
Okay. I've had my share of coffee this morning, albeit it isn't Dunkin' Donut coffee, but Folgers. I haven't ventured out yet. I mean the sun is coming up and I'm not sure if I should hit the batting cages or go for a bike ride on my new $550-Alibi Sport, a nice little ride for the senior citizen, complete with "no-flats-ever" tires. I mean, all I have to do is go back to the bike shop when I'm 82 and get a new set of tires.
Ride baby ride!
At 77, I refuse to be put on the mantel as a "remember when dude" whose relatives think the old codger is done and has nothing left to say that would be of any interest. I'm half joking, of course. They know I'm around somewhere, just not on the sofa looking for my next ailment.
Once in a while, I'll meet up with an old friend who faces the same dilemma. I mean, after all, "we" grew up in the 1950s, back in the push-button Edsel days, Elvis and Conway Twitty...and, oh well, you get the picture.
It's tough getting old and wanting to be noticed. Our government is just waiting for individuals like me to pass on, so they can avoid sending out a social security check, which is the money I earned between the ages of 16 and 62. Yep, I gave it all up and retired early, right after a quadruple heart attack.
My problem is that little, obnoxious kid inside my antique brain. I mean that little fella in my head will not shut up. I guess I refuse to go quietly...even though I have to do my talking on my laptop, instead of sitting across from someone fifty years younger who is just starting out on the battered path I have already been down.
The good news, is that I am Old, but I have finally stopped to smell the roses, unfortunately, there are only my handful of readers that take the time, sit back and enjoy a cup of Folgers, or, if they have moved up in the world have the option to brew a cup in a Keurig coffee pot and read my ramblings. Yes, I know! Do not call it a pot.
Sadly, I don't have more oldtimers reading my ramblings every morning, but most of them are not ready to invest in a device that does so many things, so fast that it makes your head swim. But deep down, the old codgers know exactly where I'm coming from. All of them, have had a wonderful life without a laptop or a computer. My goodness, in the long run, it's probably better that way.
Nowadays, you have to research what you watch on television. What channel and what network gives you a certain slant on things. That's politics and I'm simply politically incorrect. So I don't venture there. There is plenty of sports to keep me adrift.
Don't get me wrong. I love this world and all the people in it. Anyone can tell by my writings that I love every character that walks the face of the Earth.
I know I'm an ancient relic. I'm not sure those two words go together. But what the heck. At my age, if I can get away with some incorrectness, I will.
I love the present. I hope I can remain in it for a while longer. In some ways, I'm just learning about life. Something has kicked in recently and I have already warned my readers of the fact.
Don't get me wrong. I love the past as in the 1950s, the 1960s, and the 1970s. Such good times. I can't believe I wasn't fond of elementary school, junior high, and high school. Now, I look back and I miss it. I ran into a high school buddy and a good friend from those "fun" days the other day. He showed up at the ballpark to watch me and a bunch of old-timers play the game of baseball. It was a special treat and it took me back to a time and place that I wish I could return to.
Michael J. Fox where are you?
Riding down the road in my Chevy, sipping on sodas with my date, looking for the drive-in theatre, while Dion and the Belmonts are rocking through the speakers.
Life is so precious. I know that now.
I must get to writing. There's so little time.
Riding down the road in my Chevy, sipping on sodas with my date, looking for the drive-in theatre, while Dion and the Belmonts are rocking through the speakers.
Life is so precious. I know that now.
I must get to writing. There's so little time.
Nice thoughts Danny--shared by many of your teammates.
ReplyDeleteWe are a big group. We all go through it. We are certainly not alone.
ReplyDelete