You know, I never thought I would live this long.
Hell, at 12, I thought the guy down the street, 16, was mature. He had big muscles, a beginning mustache, and bragged about girls he had had. He told me lots of shit, and I believed it.
My teachers at 40 were ancient, directed me past history, math, grammar, and I remembered a dime’s worth. I wondered if they were ever just kids.
My grandparents were dinosaurs, no way could I talk to them, as they had seen it all. They said I knew nothing, and I knew they were right. Later, with the Vietnam war, I figured I would be shot up by 19, forgotten on some hillside or jungle, my mother given a nice letter to make her tears mean something while I meant nothing.
But, I got past that. I lived beyond my expectations.
I lived “in spite of”.
In spite of my stupid mistakes.
In spite of people, I trusted that did not deserve the sweat from my huevos.
In spite of me not listening to the little voice in my head that said, “stupid! do not do this!” That one time, I drove a motorcycle too fast and had a sliding accident,
or that one time I tried to fight 3 mature guys at a time,
or that one time, I jumped off the roof in sneakers,
or when I was five, thought I could swim and jumped off the 12-foot board.
Man, oh man, I have had a ride. A good one, with good people, and lots of life,
“in spite of”.
So, here I am.
I am beyond the mature one, and I do not tell people shit.
I am beyond ancient, and I so remember being a kid. I am a grandparent. And, let me tell you, I love this life.
Like John McCain, I will hate leaving, but dammmnnn it has been so good!
So for you “poor me” types, I cannot talk to you, or understand you.
For all you living types. “eat it up, like a Chinese Buffett!”
“Save room for dessert!”