I’d like to introduce you tot he newest member of my fanily. He’s an Akita puppy named Peeve. That’s right. He’s my pet Peeve.
Don’t you dare wince! Look, I’m well aware it’s not the joke you were hoping I’d start with – but quit your whining and walk it off, you little baby.
If my mood seems a little more somber than usual this month, it’s because I continue to obsess on my imminent birthday and advanced age. I don’t want to give anyone the impression I’m sensing my own mortality, but aren’t I smelling earthworms? Haven’t I started asking for cremate in my coffee? Didn’t I just I change the spelling of my name to Bury?
On the bright side, I became eligible for Medicare on June 1st so I think I’ll break both my hips now that they’re covered. Senior discounts kick way in on my birthday and that means 10% off all Canadian bacon appetizers at Applebee’s if I can provide proof of a limp and hammertoes. Other restrictions may apply – void where prohibited by law.
When a man turns 65 it’s a time for serious introspection and I’ve been doing just that. On a milestone birthday like this one a man has to look himself square in his round eyes and take stock with razor-sharp clarity and unflinching honesty. That’s precisely what I’ve done and I’ve looked back on my life and reflected on my family, career and friends and you know, it really hasn’t been worth it. Events, places and people echo through the canyons of my mind and the dry washes of my spirit. My journey has been an American odyssey, an epic voyage that began as a shrieking infant in Cleveland and now continues as a screaming broken down wreck of a man in Phoenix. I’ve covered a lot of miles in these old boots and immersed myself to the hilt in the everchanging tapestry of life, but never – despite enormous pressure – did I convert to the metric system. I stand tall in that knowledge… 5’10”.. not 1.778 meters – that’s completely ridiculous.
Well, it looks like I’ve made a complete fool of myself for yet another month so let’s get to the damn blanket, shall we? From the Terry Clark collection comes something I can’t begin to identify. Can you? No, you can’t or you’d have your own Indian blanket web site, wouldn’t you? I’ve never seen another label like it and time has rendered it…much like this blog… unreadable. Throw in the multi-colored fringe and a pattern I’ve never seen before and what we have here is a true mystery. You know what’s even more puzzling? Trying to jam 65 candles into a cupcake.