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Awful Age

I once read somewhere that what aging really is, on the most basic level, is your cells…when they replicate…start making “mistakes.” If you’re privy to something akin to my sick sense of humor, you can learn to laugh at some ways in which this manifests. Like I defy the most insightful analyst to find hidden meanings as I more-and-more frequently come up with the weirdest typos, typing in completely unrelated words as blithely as an Alzheimered Julie Christie putting the frying pan away in the freezer in the wonderful movie Away from Her.

But can anyone, analyst or no, find the at-least-hidden-from-my-sight “grace” possible while your mind and body gradually wrinkle and deform, like something out of a horror movie, before failing to function altogether as you die? If, for instance, that “grace” depends on denial of what’s really happening…thinking of my age as x number of years “young,” for example…count me out.

Ain’t nuthin’ purdy IMO, let alone graceful, about my smile…for instance…that could benefit so very much from a second set of adult teeth coming in. (Would that evolution would catch up to our current life expectancy!) Okay, there are dentures and cosmetic dentistry and you can cake your wrinkles with makeup, but ultimately it’s hard for me to think “graceful” in connection with someone tottering down the sidewalk with a cane held by a shaking, liver-spotted, gnarled hand. I don’t know that “grace” is the right word, or that “aging gracefully” is something any of us can realistically achieve.

Maybe, instead of “grace,” we should try to attain “calm.” Aging with calm acceptance, firmly centered in who we are after so many decades of living, is something I can imagine. And maybe, in the end, that’s what’s really meant by “aging gracefully.”

Idiots Abound

April Activity

Sources so exclusive that I’m confident no one else has heard of this have revealed to me that a top-secret meeting is taking place this month on an obscure island only reachable by private plane. Fantastically, no expense will be spared while the CDC, the FDA, Joe Biden, Donald Trump,…
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Before Breakfast

Finally John Steinbeck’s Breakfast inspired me to write the following: Alone by Sue Hollister Barr On January 1st of 1988 I suddenly found myself utterly alone with two young children to support. The cold fury of endless blizzards swirling around me perfectly echoed the cold horror swirling around inside me.…
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Bus Breakfast

My brother John was also inspired by John Steinbeck’s Breakfast to write the following: A Tale of a Carless Country Gentleman by John Barr You may have read in the newspapers that the State of Nordrhein-Westfalen had such flooding that houses washed down hillsides. You would have thought it was California!…
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Bountiful Breakfast

My nephew Nat, a writer and musician whose music you can listen to here, was inspired by John Steinbeck’s Breakfast to write the following: What I Didn’t Say in the Yelp Reviews by Nat Barr When we moved in together, I noticed that she didn’t like to drink coffee at home.…
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Ballsy Breakfast

My niece Maureen, a seasoned professional who can help you reimagine education here, was inspired by John Steinbeck’s Breakfast to write the following: Breakfast at the Commons by Maureen Powers I never use an alarm clock. Before I fall asleep, I tell myself what time to get up. My body…
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