XLVI
I don't know for sure that the above says 46 in Roman numerals, but anyway, that's what I turned today. Man, now I'm on the downhill side of my forties, too. I always try to figure how old I have to live until for this to be my life just being half over. I reach that number by multiplying my current age by 2. I know, that's why I challenged the math course. Anyway, last year I needed to live to be 90. Now I need to live to be 92. Anything less and I'm more than halfway done already. So.... how about a hand for advances in modern medicine. Way to go and, um, keep on researchin'. Yeah, researchin', that's the ticket.I hope the above don't sound too morbid. I do think about how long I'll be on earth, but I don't obsess about it. Like I know for sure now that I'm not going to lose my hair. What I don't know is when, or if, it'll all go gray on me. I know that I'll never be grossly overweight, but I also know I can toss those 36 X 34 jeans I wore for so many years. I'll never again get in to them. I now know that I'll never be rich, but doggone it, at least I won't be rich. OK, OK, but being independently wealthy always did hold a certian allure for me.
And and I say to all y'all who know me, well at least all y'all who survive me, there ain't no reason to let the beer in the fridge go to waste. At least I assume there'll be a few cold ones in there. If there's not, then you'll know this: Apparently, you CAN take it with you.
I've got no advice for the youth of America, out
Ramblin' Ed
That's what I'm about. Ramblin' Ed at 5:55 PM
7 comments:
My hope also, Rambin' Ed, to burn out rather than rust out.
May you both burn out rather than rust out. Happy Birthday, Ed. There is a Tom Petty Lyric I qouted recently..."You never slow down you never grow old". It's true. Here's to many more.
More B'day's, less letters...5!
Hey, you are still older then me-whew!
Tashi Deley my dear friend and Happy Birthday to ya.
Having been in the blogging world awhile, I have seen good blogs come and abruptly stop. I can't help but imagine a blogger slumped over on the keyboard with some letter repeating for eternity leaving the rest of us wondering, "Why don't he write?"
Well, Ed, I imagine mine would either be a "Z" or a comma. And likely some dried up drool, not that I contemplate it some.
"Now that I contemplate it some", as my fat fingers originally intended to type
Fat fingers... reminds me of an old adage.
Adage: Do you know the eight words coming from a wife that strike fear in their husbands?
Dear, do these pants make me look fat?
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