I made an off-handed post similar to this once on Facebook and for some reason, and due to a recent special event (an 80s Prom at our local watering hole), I thought of it again for this blog.
A 21 year old's Compendium of Mysterious Terms...
Betamax, Intellivision, Leaded or Unleaded?, That's bogue", Commodore 64, Watergate, Love Canal, 3 Mile Island, "You Meathead!", Sea Monkeys, Pet Rock, Datsun, NOW, ERA, 'Ludes, Going to Betty Ford, Match Game, Pol Pot, Khmer Rouge, Ayatollah Khomeni, Khadafi, Sadat and Begin, AMC Gremlin, Rhodesia, Idi Amin, Billy Beer, Pele, Jonestown, Braniff, The Falklands,
annnnd there were only 4 channels on TV.
Dear 21-year-olds, please try to imagine a time when the things listed following were rare or didn't exist when I was your age: internet access, mobile phones, DVDs, CDs, portable computers, phones without cords, personal computers, cable TV, satellite TV or radio, and (gasp) credit cards.
I'd love to see the same list done for someone who is 84 or 63 to a 42 year old... I could probably do it with the help of the innernet and wikipedia... God bless the Innernet.
Showing posts with label over 40. Show all posts
Showing posts with label over 40. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Fatalistic Endeavours
(music director, cue - Hurt, sung by Johnny Cash)
"I hurt myself last night, just to see if I could feel"...
No, I'm not suffering through a severe drug addiction to which the lyrics refer, and by no means am I trying to compare my latest incident with the severity of struggling with drug addiction, but by just muddling through the semi-mundane task of changing a light bulb, I hurt myself last night.
This is no ordinary bulb mind you. It's the one, single bulb in the house that requires bravery, faith, and aplomb. It's the one in the ceiling above the open stairway from the first to second floor. I hurt myself last night by managing to fall off the ladder. The results of my fall were spectacularly slight in regard to my physical injuries. I like to think it's because, at the moment when I realized i was going to fall, I attempted to jump backwards from the ladder back to the relative safety of the stair landing, just a couple of feet below my feet. The mental damage has yet to be fully assessed.
"What have I become?"...
Aplomb - Physical requirements are relatively small; set up ladder, climb ladder, remove old bulb, install new bulb, climb down ladder, consider celebratory beer. Growing up in a construction family, this is hardly uncharted territory.
Faith - The only significant variable (myself aside) in this scenario is the ladder's strength and capability. 350 pounds? I've yet to shed my 'winter coat', but I'm well under 60% of the ladder's load rating.
Bravery - To attempt this little feat, I will need to bravely conquer my fear of falling. Not fear of heights, but falling. Getting up in the air takes a little getting used to if you don't do it regularly, but I'm far from out of the realm of my experience here.
"Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear"...
After returning to upright following my failed attempt, I can say my confidence was well shook. I've never recognized those feelings in my physical self before. As a boy who grew up playing all kinds of sports, I feel I am acutely aware of the level of confidence in my physical skills and body control. My brain knows I can easily do this task, yet I managed to fall and injure myself. My psyche was in sudden conflict with the pain reports flooding in from various areas of my body. I seriously cannot believe what just happened.
What was the variable, the intangible, that conspired against me? My own lack of care apparently. The ladder I used was the telescoping kind which, when extended, relies on each segment to be fully locked out to become a solid climbing platform. At the time, I even noted some uneasiness (6th sense type of warning) despite having used this ladder several times with no ill effect.
Believing in my careful set-up, I apparently managed to have one segment not fully locked out. When loading it as I climbed up to the 6th rung, it began to telescope back into the next lower segment, albeit just a slight bobble/slide down of about 2 inches, but knowing how this ladder works, I knew the next motion would be a continued collapse of the lower segments and major injuries immediately following.
Projecting imminent failure of support, I immediately bailed off the ladder, with one foot slipping on the rung I attempted to jump from, throwing me off-balance and my left arm striking the square stair landing corner post directly on the funny bone nerve. Assorted bodily contacts with said ladder, railing, wall, who knows what else later, I ultimately grounded myself on the stair landing. I had fallen only approximately 24 inches, but the the instant pain and numbness shooting up my left arm from elbow to fingertips lead me to believe that I had broken something.
As is always wise during any type of fall, I fought the instinct to 'pop up' as if nothing happened. I lay there for a moment while my kids rushed from their second floor rooms to discover me face-up and grimacing on the landing. I assessed my left arm and quickly found it to be nothing worse than a hard, hard contact of the largest unprotected nerve in the human body, with the efficiently strong and equally sharp Oak stair rail post cap.
My injuries are slight, although still felt today and likely on through the weekend. But as I lay on the floor for that 20 seconds or so. I felt like an old, old man. 'Old' like coming to the realization that I may not be totally capable of doing everything I could do 20 years ago. 10 years ago. 5 years. 2 years. In that moment I felt inescapably 'over the hill'.
"If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way"...
Now, a full 16 hours later, I am disappointed, hurt, thankful, regretful, sorry, resigned, angry, frustrated, and enlightened, all at the same time. Is this the seminal feeling of growing older and doing the inevitable 'downhill slide'? I don't like it. Not one... single... bit. I am now fearing an aging process that I will fight rather than embrace. I don't like this feeling and I don't like aging,
Goddamnitall.
"I hurt myself last night, just to see if I could feel"...
No, I'm not suffering through a severe drug addiction to which the lyrics refer, and by no means am I trying to compare my latest incident with the severity of struggling with drug addiction, but by just muddling through the semi-mundane task of changing a light bulb, I hurt myself last night.
This is no ordinary bulb mind you. It's the one, single bulb in the house that requires bravery, faith, and aplomb. It's the one in the ceiling above the open stairway from the first to second floor. I hurt myself last night by managing to fall off the ladder. The results of my fall were spectacularly slight in regard to my physical injuries. I like to think it's because, at the moment when I realized i was going to fall, I attempted to jump backwards from the ladder back to the relative safety of the stair landing, just a couple of feet below my feet. The mental damage has yet to be fully assessed.
"What have I become?"...
Aplomb - Physical requirements are relatively small; set up ladder, climb ladder, remove old bulb, install new bulb, climb down ladder, consider celebratory beer. Growing up in a construction family, this is hardly uncharted territory.
Faith - The only significant variable (myself aside) in this scenario is the ladder's strength and capability. 350 pounds? I've yet to shed my 'winter coat', but I'm well under 60% of the ladder's load rating.
Bravery - To attempt this little feat, I will need to bravely conquer my fear of falling. Not fear of heights, but falling. Getting up in the air takes a little getting used to if you don't do it regularly, but I'm far from out of the realm of my experience here.
"Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear"...
After returning to upright following my failed attempt, I can say my confidence was well shook. I've never recognized those feelings in my physical self before. As a boy who grew up playing all kinds of sports, I feel I am acutely aware of the level of confidence in my physical skills and body control. My brain knows I can easily do this task, yet I managed to fall and injure myself. My psyche was in sudden conflict with the pain reports flooding in from various areas of my body. I seriously cannot believe what just happened.
What was the variable, the intangible, that conspired against me? My own lack of care apparently. The ladder I used was the telescoping kind which, when extended, relies on each segment to be fully locked out to become a solid climbing platform. At the time, I even noted some uneasiness (6th sense type of warning) despite having used this ladder several times with no ill effect.
Believing in my careful set-up, I apparently managed to have one segment not fully locked out. When loading it as I climbed up to the 6th rung, it began to telescope back into the next lower segment, albeit just a slight bobble/slide down of about 2 inches, but knowing how this ladder works, I knew the next motion would be a continued collapse of the lower segments and major injuries immediately following.
Projecting imminent failure of support, I immediately bailed off the ladder, with one foot slipping on the rung I attempted to jump from, throwing me off-balance and my left arm striking the square stair landing corner post directly on the funny bone nerve. Assorted bodily contacts with said ladder, railing, wall, who knows what else later, I ultimately grounded myself on the stair landing. I had fallen only approximately 24 inches, but the the instant pain and numbness shooting up my left arm from elbow to fingertips lead me to believe that I had broken something.
As is always wise during any type of fall, I fought the instinct to 'pop up' as if nothing happened. I lay there for a moment while my kids rushed from their second floor rooms to discover me face-up and grimacing on the landing. I assessed my left arm and quickly found it to be nothing worse than a hard, hard contact of the largest unprotected nerve in the human body, with the efficiently strong and equally sharp Oak stair rail post cap.
My injuries are slight, although still felt today and likely on through the weekend. But as I lay on the floor for that 20 seconds or so. I felt like an old, old man. 'Old' like coming to the realization that I may not be totally capable of doing everything I could do 20 years ago. 10 years ago. 5 years. 2 years. In that moment I felt inescapably 'over the hill'.
"If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way"...
Now, a full 16 hours later, I am disappointed, hurt, thankful, regretful, sorry, resigned, angry, frustrated, and enlightened, all at the same time. Is this the seminal feeling of growing older and doing the inevitable 'downhill slide'? I don't like it. Not one... single... bit. I am now fearing an aging process that I will fight rather than embrace. I don't like this feeling and I don't like aging,
Goddamnitall.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
For Tea Won
Hey.
Yep, two days ago was my birthday. 41 as the title alludes to.
The title reminds me of the phonetic cipher-type of righting I oh-kay-shun-alley like two yous.
Hear gose,
For tea won. Knot a tree-men-does numb-her, butt won that is plant-he big form-hee. Eye guest-hat Eye half know choice, buh-tit seams a caws four paws. War-and-tee has run out Eye sup-hose sew it's kare-full may-ten-ants from hear awn out. Know two much drink-hee, or eat-hee, or play-hee an-heem-ore. 'Eye had m-eye fun and now my tie-him is dun' as the sawn-glee-rick goes. Oke-hay, Eye am ghett-hing tie-erd oft-his. Baah-k two sum nor-mull righting.
Ah, that's muuuch easier. And easier is welcomed in my advancing age. Junior geezer, is the name I've given the age range beyond 40 and below 50. Hope you don't walk on my lawn or you'll get the wrath of me - the newest junior geezer.
Till necks tie-hm...
Yep, two days ago was my birthday. 41 as the title alludes to.
The title reminds me of the phonetic cipher-type of righting I oh-kay-shun-alley like two yous.
Hear gose,
For tea won. Knot a tree-men-does numb-her, butt won that is plant-he big form-hee. Eye guest-hat Eye half know choice, buh-tit seams a caws four paws. War-and-tee has run out Eye sup-hose sew it's kare-full may-ten-ants from hear awn out. Know two much drink-hee, or eat-hee, or play-hee an-heem-ore. 'Eye had m-eye fun and now my tie-him is dun' as the sawn-glee-rick goes. Oke-hay, Eye am ghett-hing tie-erd oft-his. Baah-k two sum nor-mull righting.
Ah, that's muuuch easier. And easier is welcomed in my advancing age. Junior geezer, is the name I've given the age range beyond 40 and below 50. Hope you don't walk on my lawn or you'll get the wrath of me - the newest junior geezer.
Till necks tie-hm...
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Four little words from my Doctor that really hurt
Let's check your prostate.
I know he's probably got the worst end of the deal, but really, what's with the phrases they use in this situation like, "Let me know if something doesn't feel right" or "Try to relax".
Yeah. That's one that's far from helping me relax. I don't mind saying that I'm tight as a drum and you're going to have to work a bit down there. I apologize for nothing Herr Docktor.
When he did invade that specific orifice, I rue not having begun a chorus from Moooooon Riiiveeeer. Those of you who know me, almost certainly will know that movie quote.
Ah, turning 40 just keeps on presenting wonderful little events that signal you've just taken the field for the second half, and son, it likely won't be pretty.
I know he's probably got the worst end of the deal, but really, what's with the phrases they use in this situation like, "Let me know if something doesn't feel right" or "Try to relax".
Yeah. That's one that's far from helping me relax. I don't mind saying that I'm tight as a drum and you're going to have to work a bit down there. I apologize for nothing Herr Docktor.
When he did invade that specific orifice, I rue not having begun a chorus from Moooooon Riiiveeeer. Those of you who know me, almost certainly will know that movie quote.
Ah, turning 40 just keeps on presenting wonderful little events that signal you've just taken the field for the second half, and son, it likely won't be pretty.
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