Trust me on this one, I know what I'm talking about. Did I have a good time when I was young? Hell, yes!!! Did I party my ass off? Hell, yes!!! Did I enjoy it? Hell, yes!!! Did I do it right? Hell, no!!! I took my youth and pissed it away like there was no tomorrow. Which, apparently, is what you're actually supposed to do with it. And lord knows, I did it with wild abandon. Hell, we don't think that we're ever going to get old. Guess what? We do. But that is when the fun really gets good.
Before I hit my 30's I was an idiot. A big one. But I sure did have a good time being an idiot. I had a pension for stealing (borrowing?) cars and homemade explosives. It's amazing what you can cook up with some sugar, salt peter and a small metal container. Hey, I was an only child with way too much time on my hands. On one fateful night those two things just happened to come together. Yes, a 1966 Chevrolet Biscaine, a garage, most of the adjoining side porch and pretty much every window for about a block and a half. None of them ours... Oh lord. Don't ask... The fire ball was just mind boggling!!! Yes, I was a danger at a really young age...
Yes, in my youth I managed to do some silly ass shit. The fact that I did not become a serial killer, a cannibal or the Uni-Bomber amazes me. In retrospect, I wasted all of those years (and that wonderful limberness) doing dumb shit that made no sense. Today, I am old. I make noises when I move. Hell, I make noises even when I don't move. The snap, crackle and pop of "age" just sucks ass!!! But since I finally grew up (about 35) I've done me some stuff. I have tap-danced on the Great Wall of China, (and yes, I do know how to tap dance, and I do it damned well!!!), I have pissed in the Indian Ocean, seen concerts at the Sydney Opera House, sailed through the Panama Canal, regained consciousness totally naked in the tropics on more than one occasion, ridden camels at the pyramids and crossed the International Dateline and the Equator more times than I can remember. If memory serves me right, I am a frequent flier on 3 different airlines. Some of which will still let me get on board if I'm lucky.
I am now 60. I have learned to be tolerant and well behaved. Well... not really. Oh, hell, not by any stretch of the imagination!!! I am ornery. I am way too outspoken for my own safety. I now have the right to cuss like a longshoreman, in elevators, at babies. I love that. I get to flip you the bird. I get to tell you to go fuck yourself if you get in my way while I'm grocery shopping. I get to pee without having to be at the toilet. THANK YOU "DEPENDS"!!! I get to talk to myself. In public. In the third person. I get to roll down the windows, open the sunroof, crank the stereo up and sit at a stoplight singing along to Meatloaf just to piss you off. I love that!!!
Am I a danger to myself? More than likely. Hell, just look at my track record. Or my wrap-sheet. Access the Freedom of Information Act, the FBI has some interesting stuff on me. I'm particularly fond of the things about unlawful assembly and attempting to incite a riot. (BTW, I was 15.) But through it all I somehow managed to turn out normal. Stop laughing! If you are my friend then I am at your back 110%. I will shove you to the ground for your own safety. Push come to shove I would probably willingly take the bullet myself. And I honestly don't have a toothpicks worth of tinker toys of sense of where that comes from but I'm damned glad that it's a part of me. Yeah, strangely enough, you are indeed safe with me. Odd concept, huh???
The first half of my life is a somewhat remember able blur with little rainbows around everything. The people from that time are either dead or have simply wandered away. I miss them all with all of my heart. But the last half of my life has been bloody amazing. When you can invite friends that you have known for 3 decades over to dinner then you are indeed truly blessed. Nothing is more delicious than a house full of fellow crazies that make you smile. My head is held high, my shoulders are squared upright and I am on my 4th passport. I would not trade the snap, crackle and pop of age for anything in the world. Life's damned good!
Sea Squirt just looks at me and shakes his head in bemusement. I know the look on that face. It's like a dog when they see you having sex. Very confused and sort of scared. Pretty unsettling. It's somewhat judgemental and a bit confused. I know in my heart he's going "What the bloody hell was I thinking???". Especially when he finds me lip synching to Cher in the kitchen with my trousers down around my ankles.... OMG, that poor man, he has me, of all things. Not even in my worst nightmares can I imagine that... Oh, crap... Oh, that poor, sweet dear man. I just can't apologise enough.
Smile on my face and a giggle in my heart...
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