A trip to the doctor, mortality and an awakening, it was a busy day.

Last week my wife made me go to the doctor. My knee hurt, a lot, and she said I had to go. She was right, the pain was keeping me awake, and walking is difficult. But, going to the doctor makes my skin crawl, the place is filled with sick people, and doctors. Groups that should be avoided.

So, I called. And the woman who answered the phone said the doctor didn't have any appointments until late November, but I could see a Nurse Practitioner if I wanted. I didn't know what to do, so I panicked, and told her I would call back the next day.

In those cases, the times I don't know what to do, too many options, all of them bad, I call my wife and ask her.

"Call back and make an appointment with the Nurse Practitioner." She said, she was certain that was the right thing. And when she is that confident, even if she is wrong, there is no reasoning with her.

"I told them I would call back tomorrow. Maybe I should wait." A man of my word.

"They don't care, Tim. Just call." She was losing her ability to see reason.

So, I called back and tried to disguise my voice. However, my birthday and name proved too much to overcome.

"Oh, hi, Tim, I was helping you earlier. Help me out, which knee is it again?" She sounded happy, but there might have been an ember of anger and resentment somewhere in there.

"It was my right knee. I know I told you I would call tomorrow, and I'm sorry, but my wife made me call back today. I can call tomorrow if that's better." This might work, if I play my cards right.

"No, that's fine. We can schedule you right now." And, she did.

When I went to my appointment I checked in at the desk, everything was going as well as could be expected. Hardly any sick people and not a doctor in sight. I could start breathing again.

The woman at the desk looked at my name.

"Oh, hi Tim. How are you?" She smiled kindly, her voice was warm and friendly, she seemed sincere. And I panicked.

"I"m OK. How are you?" I said, looking behind me, finding the nearest exit sign, in case things went bad.

"How's your knee?"

"It's sore." Damn, things were taking a turn for the worse.

"I helped you schedule your appointment." She was smiling, cheerful. But, there might have been some latent hostility, I couldn't be sure.

"I'm so sorry! I know I told you I would call back the next day, but my wife made me call back the same day. I normally don't go back on my word so quickly..." five minutes of really going in for myself, laying it out there, I covered everything from my disappointing performance in the third grade Christmas Program, I was  Shepherd #5, and stage fright made me nauseous, until I thought I was going to pass out, to my difficulty staying in one job when I was older because of my resentment of authority. There was no way I could possibly be held responsible for this minor oversight.

Finally, she said. "It's ok. We don't mind." But, she seemed a little angry.

Then, I went back and had my appointment.

"It's arthritis. Osteoarthritis." She said, and I guess Osteo means aged. And she said the "x-ray shows some detritus in the joint that might need to be cleaned out."

In that moment I saw it all. The beginning of the end. I felt the icy fingers of the dark hand closing
around me. I almost cried. This was the first thing I have ever had that there was no coming back from. It wasn't going to get better, only worse.

I've done a lot of stupid things in my life. Stitches, sprains, breaks, times when I should have learned and didn't. But, they always got better. Not this time. Slowly, inexorably my body is going to start to fail. One joint, one organ, one twinge at a time, until someday it just gives up, surrenders to a light so much brighter than its own.

Then I thought, I'm not done yet. I will "not go gentle into that good night." So, I will limp if I have to, I will crawl if I need to, but I'm going to be around. It is going to get better, and better, even if it slows down a little. Hang on, it is about to get interesting.

Learning, living, loving and aging.

Occasionally I like to watch the IBM Watson commercial with Bob Dylan.It is easy to find on YouTube.

It reminds me of the power of language. Dylan is a master with words. His lyrics are so profound, have meant so much to so many. But, when it comes down to it, time passes and love fades. What else is there?

No matter what you write those themes are probably in there somewhere.  And really, those are all you need if you consider how much your life has changed since you first started paying attention, everything noteworthy can be summed up in those simple statements.

Time passes, and it goes fast, or it goes slow, sometimes it goes so slowly it doesn't seem to be passing at all. But, it does, and those times are a story all their own. Those times are often the best stories, the stories I look for.

"Some of these memories you can learn to live
with and some of them you can't"

And, love fades. There is nothing that burns so bright, so hot, as love. It has to fade or it would
consume you. Passion is replaced by fondness. Lusty, untrammeled obsession gives way to a comfortable need, that owes more to gentle caresses than anything carnal. And those are the stories I look for. The time tested attraction of people growing old together.

I look for hope and life, love and meaning in everything. Dylan taught me to do that. So, if you have a story tell it, and I will add it here. I think it will help people who need to know things change, but that is ok.

Dylan is a genius. His words have given hope, inspiration, pain to generations. I'm not sure he understands his importance in the world. And his overwhelming message, to me anyway is "the only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on."

Auctions, an Exercise in Living

Saturday we went to an auction. An older couple had moved into a retirement home and had to scale back on their possessions. One of my wife's coworkers, her friend at work, told her about it. Since we had never been to an auction we thought it sounded like fun. Everything is an adventure if you do it properly. 

We got up early, not too early, not early at all, really. Stopped at Panera for a cheese pastry, for me, a pecan braid, for her, but she let me have part of it, she is pretty good to me, and a medium coffee, for me. And we were on the road, pastries and drinks in hand. In what has to be considered an auspicious start we didn't get lost. In fact, we only had to turn around twice, and only for a block both times.

It was a pleasant drive. Rain had turned everything a healthy, vibrant green. Corn stood tall, cows chased their calfs playfully across idealic pastures, playing in ways that I never imagined cows playing. Crops, barns, country churches, old graveyards filled with stories, stories lost forever. 

Before we left rain barreled through, lightning, thunder, wind, wet, ominous, and loud, soaking everything. Then it was mostly done. The clouds hung around sprinkling and threatening, but behaving. There was enough early rain that almost everything was wet. Boxes of soggy books, albums, towels, linens, Christmas decorations, lined up from front to back. Two lines of failing cardboard waiting to be snapped up, loaded in cars or trucks. There were even a few people who towed flat cargo trailers. Serious about auctions.

We ran into my wife’s freind, and my wife’s friend’s wife, if you see what I mean. Wonderful people, kind, charming. People who make you feel welcome.  In a way, even though I hardly know them, this is the first time I had met his wife, it seems as though they are my friends, too.

There is a magic in the sound of an auctioneers call. The cadence, the rhythm, the intonation, it is mesmerizing. When you mix it with a sense of humor it is a show worth seeing. This auctioneer was exceptional, and it was fun watching him, working the crowd, singing the numbers, bouncing the bids backs and forth, art, for arts sake, or for the sake of the sale. I bid on a few things just for the fun of being involved.

In the air a hint of celebration mixed with the thick humidity. Laughter and conversation competeing with low, distant rumbling thunder. People clustered in little clots, smiling, sharing a memory. A concession stand had been set up in the garage, and business was brisk. It had an amazing variety of food, none of it healthy, but all of it looked good. It seemed everywhere you looked people were finishing a sandwich, or piece of pie. It could have been a county fair on a reduced scale, county fair light. 

Not all the conversations were pleasant, some were darker, rumors of anger, mistrust, potentially shady practices. Many of these people traveled the same auction circuit. They knew each other, and as is so often the case familiarity breeds contempt. Nothing can sour a relationship like a little healthy competition, and an auction is fast, furious competition. Serious business for many, perhaps stocking a thrift store, a casual sideline for some, stocking up on goods for a yard sale, a chance to make a little money for most. Not for me, though, I was only a tourist, a voyeur. 

And, here is what I saw, years of hard work, a couple's life, at least a good portion of it, was laid out, on plastic tables, under tarps, exposed to a bizarre, violent mid summer thunder storm. Examined, picked over, rifled through, judged for resale value, and finally bid on. Some lucky enterprising soul would take home a box or two of carefully accumulated memories.

These two people had raised a family, lived a life, traveled, read, listened to music, sought spiritual fulfillment, and now their life was boxed up, or laid out on tables, marginally protected against the sudden, unforgiving rain. Tools, household goods, utensils, bedding accumulated over years gone in a day. Carried off, a modern day tempest scattering a life time to the far reaches of the county. 

I didn't buy anything, nor did my wife. Well, I bought a coney dog, my wife bought a piece of apple crumb pie, and we split a bottle of water. Actually we split the pie, too. My wife is nice that way. We didn't stay for the whole thing, but we were there long enough to understand the finality of the occasion. Possessions sold, house sold, truck, off road vehicle, golf cart all sold, a life lived and the remnants off to start over with a different family.

Redistribution at the micro economic level. Who knows where the tools, trinkets, comforters, video tapes will end up. One box of memories could be split into a fifty pieces, sold to forty different people and end up in another state. Maybe traveling to another country. It is Newton's law of motion. And object at rest tends to stay at rest an object in motion ends up almost anywhere. 

It was fun, and it was a little melancholy. And it offered some reassurance, things come and things go, life goes on. All sales are final, and there is no warranty, life comes as is, as do we.  

Shopping Your Way to a Happy Retirement

Bargain shopping at outlet malls has many benefits.  There is the saving, of course, and often the variety is much more significant, with so many stores crammed into such a small space it is easy to compare brands with just a short stroll.  Exercise, though, is probably the greatest reward.

Walking from store to store, and back again is so healthy.  Throw in a few bags of clothes, or shoes, and soon there is a strength training component, as well (I hope my doctor is reading this, see I am getting some exercise, Dr. Critical).  Plus, you add a few steps walking around the families who stop to have a little reunion in the middle of the sidewalk.  All of the joy shared in the walkway, all of the laughter, all of the love, flowering right in the middle of that narrow avenue, it almost brings a tear to your eye.

Stalking the aisles of the women's clothing stores is where things get intense, though.  You need to be mobile in those places.  It is so much more difficult to hit a moving target.  Plus, you need to pay attention to your surroundings, there is danger everywhere.  It keeps the heart rate up there, the constant danger, and terror.

Occasionally you will need to stop to rest, and relieve the cramps that develop in the legs from the constant circling.  This is ok, but don't feel safe, not for a second.  I made that mistake, and was gazing at the spots on the carpet from the poor man that was foolish enough to rest too long.  Oh, they do a good job cleaning the remains of the poor soul, but if you look carefully enough you can find the reminders.  When I looked up, they were closing in, oh, they were pretending to look at the shirts, and shorts, and scarves, jewelry, blazers, all of the apparel women need to for one simple outfit.

But, I heard "oh, isn't this a fun tshirt, she will just love it," from a little too close, and with a little too much emphasis on "fun."   I looked up and saw them closing in on three sides, eyes blazing, hands reaching into purses for nail files, knitting needles, eyebrow tweezers, one of them a machete with several x's  burnt into the scarred, scratched blade.  Fortunately, for me anyway, they had sprung the ambush too soon, and I managed to dart out between the capri pants, in airy spring pastels, and the and the light sweaters, perfect for work or casual wear.

Exercise is so important, life is short enough the way it is, without letting sloth, and inactivity, or aggressive, hostile women shoppers end it prematurely.  And if your going to add a few years onto the end of your life, you will need some extra dollars, so the outlet mall is the place to go.  As long as you are careful.

Reasons, by the number.

Sometimes life is very strange, taking unexpected turns often leaving you in difficult situations.  With little warning, short of breath, and cash you are forced to scramble through whatever swampy situation hoping to get out alive. Nobody gets out unscarred, you accepted that long ago. "We're all boxed in, nowhere to escape."*  Sometimes, it seems a lot of bother with no visible pay out.

So, we live, and then we stop.  And in between there is a lot of commotion, and change, and a lot of what can seem to be pointless struggles against toxic cruel adversity and endless overwhelming responsibility.   But, is it all worth it?  Yes, and you need to find your reasons, a list of good things, things that make the battle worth fighting.  Things that make life as a human, on Earth enjoyable. Things that make the Grim Reaper grim.

Here is my list for the day.

1. Donuts,
2. Pizza,
3. Coffee, (man that stuff is so good),
4. Bob Dylan music, (that should be higher, but the hunger is strong in this one, Emperor),
5. Three day weekends (coincidentally, there is one coming for a certain happy blogger this week),
6. New glasses, and they look good,
7. My car, it is the best one I have ever owned.
8. Kentucky Bourbon, (if it isn't from Kentucky it's just whiskey),
9. Smart phones, you can do almost anything with them,
10. The NCAA basketball tournament, the best sporting event of all time, especially when your team wins,
11. My friend, Doctor Dawg, he may be a nuisance but we are tight,
12. My wife, she is "too bright a light for anybodies eyes"**, she would be #1 if she ever read my blog,***
13. Prime numbers, everybody knows they are lucky, so we end on 13,

Take that, pale rider.  When you come for me, don't expect me to go quietly, I have a lot of things
going on, and you will just have to wait, so take a number, have a seat, relax, get comfortable, it is going to be a while, because in the immortal words of Bob Dylan;

"pick up your money, pack your tent,  you ain't a goin' nowhere."

Everybody has to make their own list of course, and it should be monitored and updated with the changes in situations, feel free to use any of my reasons they are universal, except for 11, Doctor Dawg is kind of possessive and 12, though, she probably doesn't read your blog either, but she is wonderful.


* Bob Dylan
**  More Bob Dylan.
*** I would have added my sons, they are the best thing I have ever had a part in, but it was a little unwieldy.

You Are Here, Please Go Over There.

Following is an item from The Hindu, an English Language Indian Newspaper with a large circulation base in Southern India, founded in 1878.

"Apple has bought the indoor GPS mapping firm wifiSLAM for 20 million dollars, The Wall Street Journal reported on Monday, in a move seen as a challenge to Google’s dominance of mobile mapping software.

WifSLAM’s technology could allow Apple to pinpoint the location of users inside buildings to within 2.5 metres — an asset that could be valuable to advertisers wishing to target mall shoppers.

Google already has an extensive catalogue of public floor plans which it used to map the interior of public buildings for users of its Google Maps service.

Apple tried to challenge the dominance of Google Maps when it released its own mapping software with the launch of the iPhone 5 and iOS 6 last year. However the software was widely criticized for being inaccurate and confusing and Apple was forced to issue an apology to users and recommend using third-party products."

There are many who see this as a creepy, big brother style invasion of privacy, while others see it as a blatant intrusion of direct and immediate marketing. More likely, this is the final piece of the puzzle. A technological implement that will transform the iPhone from a toy with a few useful applications for real life into the all encompassing, shining beacon of hope that everyone has dreamed about for so long.

Imagine, a trip to the mall, and a stop in the bathroom that lasts a little too long. A kind voice, nestled warmly in pocket or purse, says "Probiotic yogurt is on sale this week at Piggly Wiggly, five for $7.00." Thank you, Siri.

It is impossible to calculate the times a person has gone out, in public, wearing something that was not appropriate for their age, or size, or the occasion. Now, when they are shopping a stern voice will warn, "buying that shirt will be the biggest waste of money, and quite possibly cause the most embarrassment since your Junior year, maybe you should go look at the XXL Polo shirts."

Imagine the ease of saving money when one knows that Siri is going to say, sarcastically, "Are you sure you should be buying that, considering the amount you owe on your Visa Card?" the minute you get to front of the long line, filled with judgmental, smug, gainfully employed jerks.

People who are carrying around a few extra pounds will finally have the help they need to shed that extra weight, imagine the power of Siri shrieking "PUSH YOURSELF AWAY FROM THE TABLE, YOU FAT BASTARD."  Healthy, happy living through electronics.

Of course, it would be impolite to report what the iPhones say to each other, and would probably hurt a lot of people's feelings. But, this is one more step toward the complete reliance on technology and machinery for which mankind has been longing.