The Dizzy Over Sixty
THURSDAY, after work, after a brief get together at The Ladies and Gents Who Lunch Happy Hour (L&GWL) at PCB, two Guinness Stouts to the wind, a plate of potato skins to the wind, the head thinking, well, I need a weekend to even begin to get the head around the idea of thinking at all. Is this good? Is this bad? We are beyond such questions. We are well into dark waters here, folks, dog paddling in the never ending ocean, thinking, well, I need an island on the horizon, I need a rest on a beach in the sun, I need to get out of this water and find a towel, I need, I need, I need. All this on two Guinness Stouts. It is cooler, as I write, the fan on low. Emmy watches from the floor, watches for what, I do not know. Where does she swim, what does she see in her own luminescent sea?
More than you, my bucko. Have you no shame? Have you considered a course in the ABC's? A starter's class in beginnings, middles and ends, a course in punctuation? An introduction to the (proper) use of parentheses?
Not on a Thursday.
FRIDAY. So much for the feeling better, feeling worse blather. Things are progressing. I am happy about this. MRA is due next weekend for a couple of days of photographic research and I am due to get on a train the next Wednesday. If I were to, say, order a car this week, would it arrive by the time I returned in August? And if I had a car (that first week in August), where might I go? I was thinking of revisiting the old stomping grounds in wine country, just to see, just to see.
See what?
Oh, an idea I've had, nothing too original. And I want to see some folks I haven't seen for an entire year to let them know I'm still alive.
You're going to order a car?
Yeah, I think so. I have a hunch it's time.
An aside: For this last year during my "oh my god, I'm going to die because I'm dizzy and the ceiling is spinning" routine I've noticed my Freecell win percentage had fallen to around seventy percent. A thousand games and I'd win seven hundred. I'd been running just over eighty the years prior. During these last three weeks of feeling better the percentage is up over eighty. A correlation of sorts? Hard to say. Hard enough to admit how much Freecell I play while I'm avoiding writing another sentence, but still. I wonder if it has any predictive quality, a diminution in your ability to focus? A subject for a graduate study? Freecell and ADD? Freecell and the dizzy turning sixty? I was going to say the dizzy over sixty, but I'm not, you know. Over sixty.
Yes you are, you've entered your sixty first year, your seventh decade, the long final slide.
Oh. Well, it does sound better to the ear, "the dizzy over sixty". Even it can have an upside.
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