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Scared Silly Doin' the Math

So I was runnin’ the traps this morning as usual and something unpleasant got stuck in my brain.  About the only way I know to exorcise brain unpleasantries is to put the words down in the blog.  Call it a brain cleanse….

For some reason I got to thinking about 20 years from now.  I am -lets’ see- 56 years old now and 76 doesn’t seem that far away.  Looking back,  20 years ago seems like it was a lifetime but the years do seem to accelerate with each one that passes; why is that?   So I got to thinking “me at 76” and just extrapolated from there.

Tramp Stamp

Will I be in some funky smelling nursing home with a buncha blue haired old women and old men with double caterpillar eyebrows?  Just think about an assisted  living facility filled with old ass yuppies if you want to go into mental arrest PDQ.

How ’bout all them gals that got the tramp stamps back in the day?  20 years in they are mildly disconcerting.  What are they gonna look like in another 20?  Enough to give you hellish nightmares I’ll betcha.  Lookin’  like somebody threw a scary Halloween mask in the fire and it got all melted up. Eeeeuuuuw!

Will Lady GaGa be playing in the elevator?  Will rap music be programmed on the oldies stations?  Will we be watching old HD re-runs of Survivor and The Batchelor?  I bet the younger kids will be thinking ‘Who could have ever watched/listened to this kinda crap??’

So I am thinkin’ this ain’t gonna work at all — not even a little because A) I couldn’t take it and because B) Nobody would ever come to visit me in Bizarro World.  So something has gotta give… Miss Kathy tells me when it gets that bad she will arrange the dirt nappin’ event and I can count on her for that. Bless her heart!  Top of the list for now is the ‘unfortunate gun cleaning accident’ scenario.  She has given me her assurance that she will wait until I give her the go ahead signal – she really has.  I ask her about it all the time just to make sure she don’t jump the gun or nothin’.

So the only thing to do is stay outta the Old Folks place.  That means I better got crackin’ on the Terlingua Refuge  (BTW the link is to one of my all time favorite blog posts.  Readers didn’t seem to think so as it got a mediocre star rating but I sure did like it.) because I am looking for a good wide porch  to set my rockin’ chair on.

Because that is the plan.  Get all fixed up out there in that Terlingua and then I don’t have to put up with all that old folks’ commune nonsense — and neither does Miss K.   Just a place to grow old gracefully smoking some Mexican cigarettes smuggled across the border down there at Lajitas because Lord knows our Government will have outlawed tobacco use by then,  drinkin’ some Mexican beverage fermented from an otherwise useless desert plant because Lord knows good Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey will cost a king’s ransom by then.  Sounds good don’t it?  Oh, I want a set of ginormous wind chimes that will ring like a big ol’ Chinese gong when the desert breeze whips up.  I will be deaf as a bowling ball by then most likely and it will be a good way to assure unwanted visitors don’t overstay their welcome.

So now you know the secret squirrel plan we been hatchin’ up.  Nothing earth shakin’ when you think about it.  Just me and Miss K and Tuco the Dog II or III out in the Desert.  Livin’ life by the drop until the cup is empty.   That’ll work………..

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3 comments to Scared Silly Doin’ the Math

  • Ken

    Back when I was ONLY 56, it seemed like a heckuva trip to 76. Lemme let you in on a little secret. Ain’t far at all. From 73, that is. We can still do most of the things we want to do, and if I mind my PDQs, maybe my wife won’t plant me early. Take heart, youngun, you will make it.

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  • Terlingua retreat, a great option. God save us from rap music piped in to the old folks home. Back up all your music, especially everything by Solomon Burke.

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  • I was just listening to “don’t give up on me”.
    And I am planning on a couple of longhorns and a horse or two as well.
    Maybe a mule for Andy… There both Stubborn…

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