Much of the angst of life at my age comes in the form of a growing sense of your own mortality. A health setback reminds you that you are much nearer the end than the beginning. You eventually get over it. Its too exhausting to keep turning it over in your head. Some people turn to therapy, start visiting mental health specialists, paying them hundreds of dollars an hour to listen to the great unburdening. I have a different coping strategy…
What did one DNA say to another DNA?
“Do these genes make me look fat?”
The other day I was walking through the parking lot at Publix and noticed a woman sitting alone in her car with the engine running, crying into a handkerchief. For a second I thought about stopping to see if she was ok. I pictured myself tapping on the window asking if there was anything I could do. But then I thought better of it. She was a woman and I am a man. It might have been awkward. She could have been mentally ill and my intrusion might have triggered an even bigger problem than whatever was causing her distress. So I kept my head down and walked into the store to buy English muffins. When I walked back to my car the crying woman was gone. I sat alone in my car for a minute wondering if I might have missed an opportunity…
How many telemarketers does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one, but he can only do it while you’re sitting down to eat dinner.
I have a neighbor who has two little boys. Almost every night I see him in his back yard throwing whiffle ball pitches to his baseball loving son. He’s done it so much he’s worn a bare spot on the lawn where he stands to pitch. I’ve watched them night after night. I hear the sound of the ball against the tinny aluminum bat. Each day the little boy gets better and better. Every once in a while he’ll really get ahold of one and it sails over the fence into my yard. I throw it back and tell him how great he’s doing. It brings back a thousand memories of Kaitlin and Patrick in our back yard at the old house. I think about the first time Kaitlin powered one over the fence. The look on her face was magical. Then there was the time that Patrick blasted one over the roof of the house. He wasn’t nearly as impressed as I was. Just me and my pups playing ball in the backyard. I watch my neighbor and it all comes back like it was yesterday. But it wasn’t yesterday. It was nearly thirty years ago…
I spent a lot of time, money and effort child-proofing my house.
But, the kids still get in!
You discover that a rift has developed between a couple of people you volunteer with. Its nothing serious but its not nothing either. You hear that there have been hurt feelings and even tears. It bothers you deeply for some reason. Its not the end of the world. People disagree, even good people. Sometimes, especially good people. You wish you could fix it but it doesn’t even concern you, just something that happened. You know that it will work out with a little time, most things do. Time has magically curative powers. But lately you’ve developed a sketchy relationship with the concept of time. Its not something you feel that you have a lot of, so you’re more protective of it, you don’t want to waste it. You want to make every second count for something. You feel like nobody has time for hurt feelings…
What do you call a snitching scientist?
A lab rat.
You’re driving home from CVS where you picked up a couple prescriptions for your wife. You get to a stop light just up the street from your neighborhood and you see this sunset. It isn’t spectacular, but just a second earlier the dying sun had set a metal fence along Three Chopt ablaze in orange light. Now you sit waiting for the light to change and you watch it lowering itself into the trees and it makes you sad. Sunsets can be that way. They are the end of something, not a beginning. You think about the woman in the Publix parking lot and wonder if she’s alright…
I saw a sheep driving a pickup truck through town the other day. Finally a cop pulled him over.
Gave him a ticket for making an illegal ewe turn.
The thing is, everyone figures out a way to deal with the hard edges of life. For me, I have found great peace, purpose and meaning in my faith and the pursuit of the redemptive power and transcendence of the Gospel. But that’s big picture thinking, and while there’s certainly nothing wrong with that, I have found that where I require the most help are in the small details of each day. Human beings are great at developing what behavioral scientists call coping mechanisms. Mine has always been the escape of humor, even poor attempts at it. Its hard to explain really, but thinking of a cheesy joke while dealing with hard things helps to soften them. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but most times it does…
What did the French chef give his wife for Valentines Day?
A hug and a quiche.
I was reminiscing today about the beautiful herb gardens I had when I was a kid.
Good Thymes.
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