Sunday, November 12, 2006

 

2000 Weeks to Graceland



I was born April 8, 1965 in Berkeley, California. That makes me 41 now, (and the fact that I lived there until after my thirteenth birthday provides some of the explanation for who I am - and who I have become). I certainly have accumulated a great (wealth?) of personal experience over the years, and from time to time I can even remember some of what I've been through. Here's a a bit about that ...

I'm fortunate to have had a relatively intact family over the years. My family is small by many standards, but the family I do have is present and available to me. Of course, one doesn't get to be 41 without some significant loss in the family department, but, with one exception, I was extremely fortunate growing up; my four grandparents lived into my adult years, my father is still healthy, and my three aunts are also alive and well. My mother died just before I turned three and tho many might rightly judge this as 'not so fortunate' this particular circumstance has greatly influenced my life - often times in positive ways. Don't get me wrong, dear readers, I've spent many a dandelion wishing for mom, but the world doesn't turn on a child's breath. And along the way I've done my share of living (and almost dying).

About 25 years ago the older of my mother's two younger sisters married Joe. My Uncle Joe is 65 years old... he says that given another 10 years of
'living' he's got only 520 weekends left in his life... that's 520 weeks to get everything done.

Cynical? Fatalistic? Realistic? Pragmatic? Short-sighted? Optomistic? Who's to say, really. It's Joe's perspective and I think there's something of value in it... food for thought anyway... I love food.

And I'm not that picky either. What's a good food metaphor for life? Sandwich? For Erma Bombeck it's a bowl of cherries? For Forest Gump's mom a box of chocolates? Do you have a metaphor for your life?

How's about a salad bar? A cornucopia of contemporary life layed out before me under a sneeze guard... some of the items are a bit out of season, some of them are all but gone, the pineapple has turned - steer clear of that - definitely going to write a note the management when I get home... well anyway, there's still plenty of good fresh vittles in good supply; that tempurasushirollthingy is looking pretty good from here.

If I can keep my health until I'm eighty (hey! it's my blog... I can say whatever I want!), I've got roughly 2000 weekends left and 2000 weeks to git'r done.

U5M

Comments:
Life is like a tin of Copenhagen. A bit acrid at first and then a bit delightful. Then it turns a bit old and stale with no real benefit. In the end the tin is empty. The benefits long having been enjoyed and probably the cause of your demise. Think I'll have me a pinch.
 
Graceland is right here and right now! No I am not eating peanut-butter and bacon sandwiches but I am given the opportunity to have a daily dose of Duncan each and every morning before facing the cruel world.
JOY! I hear angels singing.
So I'm walking along the beach and just beyond some sand bumps there's this girl with no arms and no legs crying. I run over and ask "why are you crying limbless girl?"
"I have no arms and no legs and I've never been kissed"
I am not a beached limbless girl and I have most certainly been kissed!
Oh Night Divine!
0 weeks to Graceland!
Hallelujah!
 
cool. inspired me to make a post.
 
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