Fixing To Die

    In March, 2017 it will be twenty years since my mother passed. I often wonder what she would think of us and the world if she could come back and try to pick up where she left off before she got sick, and before we all had to say goodbye to her. I have a pretty good idea that she would not be pleased with all of the changes she would encounter, in fact, I knew her well enough to believe she would be as terrified as she would be mortified.

    1996 was the last year she was well enough to still be the family go to girl when any of us had a problem or if we needed comforted or only reassured that tomorrow will be a better a day; that was her signature saying when she couldn't explain or fix something for someone else right away. In October of that year she was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer and the day before she received that horrible news she went shopping. That day began as any other before she realized for sure that something was wrong and from then on everything in her world (and ours) went downhill and then five months later she was gone.

     She wasn't fixing to die before she was told that she might, and it wasn't until she was too weak to struggle against what was rapidly becoming inevitable and fell into a coma before her will to keep hoping and fighting to stay with us eventually gave out.  I was at her bedside when she passed and the next twenty years have seemed like only a few days. But here we are; two decades since, and with the years came the changes of attitudes and behavior of most of the world in addition to technological advances that changed how we get things done, how we treat one another and of course our economy, one that she and my dad (who passed a year later) probably couldn't survive on their own if they were still here, even if both were healthy.

     Nevertheless, my parents were strong people that played by the rules and they spent their lives under a different set of them than we now have for everyone; maybe it is a disguised blessing in their favor that they didn't live to see what we all do now, or that they needn't be expected to accept changes I suspect they wouldn't want if given a choice, or to even be able to comprehend. That changing economy for example; most of my mother's favorite shopping venues are gone or are closing, largely because of how the masses shop now through the convenient process of never having to leave home by doing it on line.

    Mom was a window shopper who enjoyed walking past one and peering into another and seeing a reason to enter a store; she found joy in getting dressed up to leave the house whenever it was possible to go somewhere or do something different than being cooped up at home where she was busied by the daily routines of housekeeping and making sure hers was a fine oasis away from the madness and chaos of others. She would return from a day out there in it and say she was glad she didn't have to face it everyday but we all knew she enjoyed it.

   Websites have replaced those windows and keyboards and computer screens asking for credit card numbers have made it easier to purchase just about everything (including food) without ever seeing it close up, trying it on to see if fits, or being tempted by an aroma. We pay on line for what we want to buy instead of handing money to cashiers and carrying it home ourselves and then wait for someone in a brown or white truck to bring it to us. Simple transactions but with possible consequences ranging from identity theft that can wipe us out financially or theft of the products from our porches when there is no one home to greet the delivery man.

     Before the stores boarded up their windows and the employees that worked in them were sent home for good getting anywhere presented fewer challenges and was less expensive as well as being far less dangerous than it has become for people her age. Her commute was on city buses where she didn't mind standing at a stop waiting for one to get her away and back home again. But most of those destinations she wanted to visit are gone and those buses are no longer the safe capsules of transportation they once were. She would be reluctant to even board one today if yesterday she saw something on the news where something horrible happened. The hugely inflated fare it now requires to climb aboard or how riders now pay with debit or credit cards instead of coins dropped into a box beside the driver would leave her gasping in disbelief.

     For that matter, what we pay for everything would go well beyond sticker-shock for both my parents and probably for everyone that died around the time they did. But what might shock them both more than prices for goods or services is the people that were born shortly before or after they died and how we are raising and educating them as well as the people they knew and how so many of them have changed!

    The progress that has come wouldn't be viewed by them with the same zeal it is for everyone that has embraced how we get things done or the new tolerance for other people's behavior that was different from what they believed was normal.

    Nearly all of the progress that was made in their lifetime and the things that were new in the 20th Century has become old-school now; all replaced with gadgets and ideas they might not understand or want, and it has taken just twenty years to all but erase that familiar world they knew. This would be a scary place to be for my mother but not for my dad. His attitude would be more in line with mine, which is a will to accept what I have to but to hold onto what I want to keep until my time is over and not allow anyone or any machine change how I manage my affairs or what I think when it is my decision to make.

     My parents were never fixing to die; they treated each day as they did earlier ones until the choice was no longer theirs. I on the the hand have reasons to and they are reasons neither of them were confronted with because they lived in a time when dying was probably a sadder occurrence because for them there was more to look forward to in their normal world than some of us see in ours. In their lifetime not much was so different from a past that was interesting and when the world was more sane than it has become, and when what they accomplished in all of their years of living would still matter for the future more than what we have does for ours.

    Progress is galloping past us faster than it did in their time and people's attitudes and expectations are flying off in different directions even faster! My cell phone that I have had for 15 years is a dumb phone compared to newer ones with bigger screens that are really compact computers. Nothing about my life and what I use is regarded as smart. I still do most things manually even when I could pay for smart things and my own attitudes and expectations haven't changed significantly from what they were twenty or even 30 years ago.

    But a lot has changed for my generation which has become one that is more and more willing to forget the past and do its best just to find a comfortable place in the years we have left. Were I to die today and somehow find myself back here in 2037 I am sure I would drop dead again from shock when I saw the changes that are surely ahead. So I am fixing to die; not that I have any plan for that to happen soon, but even if we cannot be sure of when...we do know that death will befall us at sometime, and as morbid as it may sound I have been busying myself with being ready to the point of embracing the idea!

    In my work as a writer I have shared more than just clues that I am ready to go anytime the Lord is ready for me, and if today were my last one I am fine with it. In fact, if he were to leave it to me to decide if today was the finish line or choose to hang around another twenty years this would be my day of glory! What I envision in becoming an old man portends a place I want no residency in, especially if it is a nursing home or the more polite term for a warehouse for old people (assisted living space). The idea of living longer if it means not being able to care for myself without help is something I hope I never experience.

     It is a roll of the dice; be okay with checking out soon, or risk catastrophic happenings that could render us helpless, bankrupt or wishing we were dead all because we weren't ready or didn't plan for either.
 
     Those my age who say they are excited about getting older than we are, or that they enjoy this time more than when they were younger are either easily amused, still in near perfect health, or they are lying to someone. Even if they are financially better off than most I suspect there is some truth missing from their vocabulary when they talk about how much better they think the world is now than it was before it got on the fast track to change. But if they are really honest and really think it is I hope they live another 40 years. If they do, good for them; maybe by then all of what they hope to see around them will be worth it.

    But what is around me now, and what is trending and evolving is more than I want twenty more years of, so I shake off as much personal frustration as I can by staying focused on what makes me happy while keeping an eye on anything or anyone that displeases me and avoiding it when I can. I am fixing to die by living the way I choose for as long as I possibly can. That means expecting less and staying satisfied that I lived in a better time and can still do only the things I must and what my personal resources allow.

    I am fixing to die by not hoping for phone calls that could change my life or waiting for my government to ever get around to caring more for more people than it has lately and by not fearing what it is likely to do or become. I am fixing to die by voting against politicians that continue to seek new ways to keep their careers going by making themselves more popular to people I have little in common with, and I am fixing to die by setting my own last few goals to manageable heights.

    That means waking up every day and ignoring changes that don't suit me and shrugging off all of the warning signs of things or people that make me uncomfortable or could kill me! In other words I am preparing the best I know how to finish how I was when that day was decades still ahead. I am fixing to die by not waiting for someone else to do anything I want done and just doing it myself on my own terms.

    We are turning a political corner in America with a new president that is unlike any politician I have seen and for that reason I voted for him against any expectations I had that he could possibly win the election. But he did win and although he scares a lot of people who are hoping he and the country fails under his leadership I remain optimistic that he will not only succeed in undoing what those who came before him changed for the worse or to only benefit a few, but that it will be better for more people before the smoke and noise subsides from the angry ones that only have their own interest at heart.

    I hope I am right about this man, but even if it turns out that he isn't much different than the rest I'll be okay with that also because whether half of the world likes the other half or not our choices become fewer and with less hope with each new election and there isn't much anyone can do about that.  I have been approaching this whole fixing to die thing with the attitude that it is inevitable if not just over the horizon for me, and after that what is left behind will be up for grabs for someone else just as it always has been.

    By then it won't matter to all of us who moved on to whatever is next, and when the time arrives for me to face the consequences of living a long time no one should wonder if I was ready to die or not because if anyone has been paying even a little attention to me or what has defined me as a writer they will know that I have been fixing to for a spell.

The Man with the Golden Gun

     They call it our golden years when we reach the age I am now; when no longer do we have to meet deadlines or live up to another's expectations, or for that matter prove anything to anyone. If you are like me you may have looked forward to the time when you could finally slow down or even stop keeping a schedule of any kind. I used to dream of the day when I could stop working and just relax anytime I felt like it; perhaps write my memoirs (as mundane or uninteresting as that might sound) while the rest of the world was out there slugging it out every day for whatever they wanted.

     Then I got there, and I arrived with about 95% of my teeth still in my mouth, most of my hair in places it ought to be and with all of my body parts still attached (except my tonsils) but most of them not working nearly as well as they once did! I got here much sooner than I thought I would because as we get older time continues to fly whether we are having much fun or not. My own golden years showed up in the blink of an eye, and speaking of eyes, mine ain't what they used to be either.

     In addition to spending more time writing than I probably should I also read more now than I used to and a lot of what I read is stuff I wish I hadn't. The news, for example; most of it is more depressing than it ever was to me and because I am getting older I find myself reading things that happen to other old people and what I might expect to also happen to me! For instance: I just read a piece on the Internet that talked about what happens to a man's penis when he gets old. Now that was an article I never would have paid any attention to back when mine mattered more to me than it ever will again. 

     But I read it nonetheless even though I knew it would depress me and there isn't anything we can do about it. As a matter of fact the writer pointed that out; the penis loses its elasticity, it shrinks and struggles to perform the basic functions we used to enjoy and there isn't any way to stop the aging process. In other words, it too becomes golden after a lot of years pass and for guys like me who resist change when change doesn't suit us the news about this is not good, but it also is not devastating because I now have fewer reasons to care about things like that than I did when I was in my 30s and there has been a lot of interesting distance covered since then.

      It won't matter to anyone but me that I have become like every other old guy in this respect but still I feel a measurable amount of sadness about the whole thing because not a day goes by where there isn't a reason to think about it or be reminded of it, and it can happen at the oddest times; like when I am watching television and a commercial comes on about pills for men with erectile dysfunction and I see some guy in it who looks to be half my age sitting in a bath tub holding hands with a woman half my age.

      At a time like that I think to myself how lucky I was through the years I never needed to have that discussion with my doctor and still don't because it really doesn't matter if mine is still functional or not and all of that stopped being a priority anyway. But still it seems unfair when you consider that as we age we get a few inches shorter but our nose and ears become larger; those parts that everyone sees every day become less attractive while the part we are urged to keep covered grows smaller, and according to the article as it shrinks our testicles actually grow longer!

     Not a pretty sight to look forward to.

    Throw in that our butts also lose their curvature and become flatter, or in some cases sag there isn't much left in terms of physical attraction (if we ever had any to begin with), and barely anything left of us to attract positive attention from anyone else besides our personality (if we can make it interesting) or something that sets us apart from others (if we can discover what that might be and hone it). 

    That butt issue has become more depressing to me than having become a man with a golden gun because it changed how my pants fit. I see men older than me whose belt-lines line up with their nipples and I understand why so many need suspenders to hold them up and why having more room in the crotch area makes less sense (unless it is because our testicles will fall further than they used to hang).

    The moral of this amoral story is my golden years and everything about them that is golden came with hidden fees I never anticipated. But I began this piece by hinting it would be a James Bond story and it is; for anyone familiar with the early Bond flicks you might recall that his boss, an aging but distinguished gentleman known only as "M" always looked at 007 with a scowl on his face and usually spoke to him condescendingly, as if he were disgusted by him, and with blatant resentment even when he knew he was the best agent Her Majesty's Secret Service employed.

     I suspect that it wasn't personal; the man was merely jealous.

Everything goes well until it doesn't...

      I wrote the title of this post as a polite variation of  shit happens, not to complain about anything going on in my own life that has left me feeling down or wondering why every day isn't a great day or even just a good one. We were reminded of how fast things can change for everyone in 2016, and for the first time in 2017 many of us were again when we lost our power and were left shivering in our homes in the middle of the night.

     The temperature outside was plunging into single digits when the lights went out and the furnace stopped but there wasn't anything many of us could do about that except to hope the electric company could resolve the issue quickly. When power was restored a few hours later it was another reminder of something else we sometimes take for granted; for me it was simply an inconvenience that I hoped would not linger for very long, but for people that cannot pay their utility bills and do not have enough friends or someone in their family to help them out in times of need, or for all of those that have lost their homes because of disaster or another reason my temporary problem was one of annoyance, not dire emergency, and for that I am eternally grateful!

     None of us are immune from unpleasant detours when all is well in life and everything we have and enjoy is working in our favor. That great job or the best people we could hope to surround ourselves with could all become disappointments one day or gone altogether, and all it might take is one bad decision on our part or something we cannot explain at all. It has happened more times to me than I care to divulge here and I am sure it will a few more before I have the chance to know why.

      But I have learned to pick myself up and not rely on anyone to comfort me or suggest ways to avoid being disappointed further, or left to feel sorry for myself when I am having a bad day or when others are doing something that disappoints me. Someday everything I have will be gone so I cherish what is left of my stuff but not as much as I covet the fact that I am still able to protect my home and those who count on me and keep giving me reasons to want to.

     I suspect there are people whose lives rarely get inconvenienced and many who might be reluctant to admit that everything isn't rosy for them all the time but I am more comfortable in my own surroundings when I am not joined there by them. It isn't that I resent people that seem to be born into immunity from ever being let down or anyone that has earned it, I just don't have the time nor patience to waste marveling at them or wondering why my own life was one of more challenges than theirs. But they too will know moments when everything was going well until it stopped; it might be a health concern that becomes out of anyone's ability to correct or the loss of a loved one but none of us finish life as happy as we were before something changed.

     In the moments before the power went off the other night I was looking in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of Excedrin hoping to relieve a headache that had been lingering all day and I blurted out oh shit!  There were a few last-minute routines I needed to undertake before going to bed and suddenly I was not only in the dark but so was my 13 year-old disabled dog that needed to get outside one more time for the evening; a chore that requires lifting her to steady her (95 pounds) and carefully guiding her through 3 rooms and down 4 steps to the yard which was not only freezing but now pitch-black.

     Normally on a frigid night such as this one I would know it was time for her and I would be completely dressed for the elements including a coat, cloves and suitable shoes, but I was in my boxer-shorts, a t-shirt and only socks when the lights went out and my other gear was in two other rooms! After successfully helping her and my other dog get out and back inside it was feeding time for them and for the cat that was howling for her late-night snack also. However, before I could address any of that I needed to find candles to see what I was doing and to light a few paths in the house and to do that I needed matches, which I had forgotten where I put them.

     Once those routines were accomplished there was the matter of rigging up suitable warmth and the garage was where I needed to go to search for a kerosene heater I keep for such emergencies. After another 10 or 15 minutes it was inside and fired-up and with the warmth came the stench of burning petroleum in my living room that quickly mingled with the stench of scented candles. They were all we had because my wife believes candles should emit aromas whereas I cannot stomach the smell of pumpkin spice, vanilla or raspberries if it only resembles the real thing.

      It must be a woman thing, or only something feminine men can appreciate; flavored candles? Please. That might be one of the worst ideas ever come up with but at this crucial time I had no other choice but to light several as I still needed to find that pill bottle and put into play a few more indoor and outdoor routines before sitting up through the night to make sure we stayed warm without inviting disaster by being careless with the flames now needed for light and comfort. It was then I wished I hadn't switched from a gas stove to an electric one when those words came to me; everything goes well until it doesn't...and how good a cup of hot coffee would be right now!

     So I returned to the garage to find my portable propane stove to heat water. (What's a few more fumes when one has a splitting headache?) As I was setting it up on the back porch I received an alert on my cell phone from the electric company advising that power would likely be off for 4 hours, and then a second one came warning that it might be 12 hours and the only good in any of that was that at least I could snuff out those stinking candles when the sun came up. But then, 20 minutes later, like an answer to a silent prayer that nothing else would go wrong and that no more delays would be advised the sound of the furnace and the lights coming on at the same time once again served as a reminder that God hears us and once again everything was going well.

     If there is a point to be made here it is only that I experienced another episode of temporary set-back and that I need to work a little harder on taking fewer things (like electricity) for granted. In recent years I have been working harder and harder on doing that while encouraging others not to take life or themselves too seriously when everything isn't going the way we hope it will. Like the 2016 election cycle; where out of nowhere our political system was turned inside out to reveal how different we all are and how much unalike our expectations are.

     For liberals everything was going their way, and the future looked nearly guaranteed that it would for years to come until shock waves were sent on election day, and now for everyone (like me) that believes liberalism is barely different than a dangerous cult it is even more important as we look ahead to remember, everything goes well until it doesn't. If we can keep the power we need on, and if we never take for granted what it means to have it (or be without it) we should be fine. On the other hand; if we get cocky or don't prepare for emergencies or steady our emotions when something unexpected comes along we will be in far worse trouble than I was when the lights went out.

Walking in High Cotton beats being poor

      Something I rarely talk or write about is my personal wealth, which by the way, and to my own surprise continues to grow substantially.  I no longer have to wake up and go among the masses each day to compete for my own cotton patch or hope that it will one day be bigger than my neighbor's or even just enough to live above what might be regarded by anyone as a financially secure or only safe comfort zone. 

     What I do have I already worked many years for and I believe I have earned all that brings me joy. I won't discuss with anyone but the Internal Revenue Service my personal holdings or bank statements because quite frankly that area of my life is no one's business, and as far as I am concerned it is none of theirs either but the law being what it is I am compelled to go along with it and the idea of ever being audited is something that I would prefer never to be bogged down with.

     Nevertheless I do from time-to-time share anecdotes within the pages of stories I write that reveal experiences and the paths I have taken en route to where I hoped I would be before I die. They may not leap from the pages but they are there, outlined and explained the best I know how for anyone that might be curious as to how it came about that a kid from a broken down neighborhood who some believed was plagued with a learning disability, coupled with an attention deficit in the early years of schooling somehow overcame both and unlocked enough mysteries to climb over what used to be obstacles.

    Whether it sounds like I am lamenting about previous hardships or on a boasting spree for the comfort and riches I have managed to cobble together from all of that would be up to the reader to decide, but I hope an open mind will prevail before that call is made. Keeping an open mind is in large part the secret to all of my successes in life; believing in things even when they seemed out of my reach, believing in other people when common sense said it was a toss-up and in myself when I was more hopeful than sure has played the biggest role in my becoming a wealthy man.

     Of course being in the right place at the right time didn't hold me back either because when I found myself there I seized as many opportunities as I knew how! That old saying it's not who you know, it's who you blow may be true for many, but I never had to blow anyone to get where I wanted to be. Those who truly know me or anyone familiar with my work might argue that I am not a kisser-upper as much as I am probably a defiant and rebellious sort when kissing up might better work to my advantage. I am not beneath blowing a little friendly smoke in someones direction when I see an opportunity to gain their attention to something I want them to know about me, but never have I been accused of holding back what I really think or expressing my opinion even when it might be perceived as impolite.  

    In fact, it is no secret to anyone that I might have been invited into more lucrative circles or encouraged to remain in a few impressive jobs longer than I chose to if I had been a little friendlier or more neighborly than I was when I spoke my piece instead of what someone else wanted to hear or expected. When it comes to politics, liberals would describe me as a train wreck, and when it comes to social graces among politicians I might be the last person to be invited to deliver the keynote address at a banquet or a fund-raiser although I do speak well and have what I believe is an above average command of the English language.

    But given the other things I do have, or some of the things others might only dream of or are still trying to get, being the way I am has proven to me that I have been approaching life in a manner that has resulted in being successful if not understood by some. In that manner of rationale I believe you have to be rich  to fully understand and appreciate riches. I think that because there was a time my life could have been described as that of a poor man, or at the very least one who struggled often I am in a position to now draw comparisons to us who have a lot and those still scrambling to get theirs! 

   And before I can be labeled a pompous ass I hope it will be known that I take nothing and no one for granted, and that I fully realize that everything I have could be swept away with one careless decision or one catastrophic event. We all teeter on that balance and all of us hope we will never step on a crack and be swallowed up by it.

   It is why when I dreamed of someday becoming a rich man I vowed philanthropy, and becoming a philanthropist is my immediate goal. My intention is not to rival or compare myself to someone like Percy Ross who discovered joy and personal satisfaction in giving away money; I aim to hold onto mine for as long as I need it. But what I do want to share and spread around to others is a mindset that leaves me believing that I am wealthy and that so are many others who don't even know they are!

   The home that shelters and keeps my family safe from the lions at the gate isn't particularly impressive to anyone but me but it is the one I want and wouldn't trade for anyone else's. My family is an eclectic passel of people that are as different from one another as people I have known all my life but they are all extraordinarily gifted people. The bosses and co-workers I have known through the years all taught me something that became valuable in some way, and the friends I have known, especially the ones that hung around were and still are people worthy of being admired and cherished.

      I treat friendship and loyalty to one another as  precious gifts that we exchange.

     I never received an abundance of education but I was educated well enough to land in some exciting and rewarding workplaces where I was surrounded by brilliant people that taught me to be brilliant when I needed to be. However, just as important as all of that is the peace of mind I have obtained as well as my awareness of how well my life has turned out even when there were many times I was left wondering whether I was doing things the right way or if anything I was doing really mattered. I have had amazing pets all my life that were more than adequate stand-ins when people failed to show up to remind me of what I was seeking all along, and compared to some that are as old as I am now my health, although not perfect is reasonably good considering the abuses and neglect I have shown my body through the years.

      I never bought expensive toys but managed to have toys I wanted and they included vehicles I dreamed of owning or only wanted during moments of impulsive buying, and the joy of owning them wasn't anymore complicated to me than it was working on them when something broke or tinkering with them to give them each my own personal touches. There is a term for people with obsessions for these pleasures; we are called car guys and the value of our cars can be as high for an old rusty Chevrolet as it would be for a shiny new Ferrari. Many of mine could have been called rust-buckets but I enjoyed all of them.

      None of them were expensive and collectively they mirrored the rest of my life! It has been one of riches in every way but how someone with different ideas might describe personal wealth. Like I said, I will keep the bulk of my money and only give away some of it to hold onto what I have and need. If I had more and could spare more I would  be someone like Percy Ross and other wealthy philanthropists that are more generous and practice more benevolence than me, but my riches are defined in a different category than theirs. 

      My life has never been about a fatter bank account than I need to keep going and remain satisfied along the trail; it is defined in two amazing bulldogs that keep me smiling every day and knowing that we will remain dry on this cloudy and dreary day, in a comfortable place where neither they nor I will see it end unable to satisfy our hunger. It will be on further display when my phone rings and I don't like the number displayed on caller-I.D enough to answer it.

      I walk in that high cotton every time I visit the garage where there is a seven-year old Mustang parked; where I can climb in it and go somewhere if I need to or just gaze at it knowing it is the car I want and can afford. The cotton in my life turned out to be a healthy crop but not so high that I am ever likely to get lost in it and because it is just high enough I am truly a man of great wealth. Having revealed that, please don't ask to borrow any money as I have none to lend. But there may come a day when my pockets are fuller and when I have more than would be fair for any one person to hoard. 

     

     If that day does come I might just be the guy more people would enjoy having around, and it could arrive sooner than later if enough people liked and believed what I shared here, and if they are willing to explore even more pearls of wisdom that explain how I became a rich man.

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