I feel as if I've been blithely walking through life, missing some of the most vital aspects of my waking hours. Like most humans, I am too busy thinking inanities and paying bills. Recently I have attempted to return to awareness. It's easier at 53 ("You're going to be 54 this year daddy!") to be aware of your upcoming demise. Any healthy 22-year-old can walk in front of a bus, while texting, and that's it -- game over -- but age brings with it actual decay. I never wore glasses until I turned forty, and now I need a stronger pair. Remember the days when you could eat or drink anything? Yeah. I remember those days too. Now I feel as if I should just eat plain yogurt for breakfast, lunch and dinner and be done with it.
Today I have some time and space to myself (although I believe there is a 21-year-old male and two fat cats, asleep downstairs.) and I usually utilize that time by writing, reading a few chapters in whatever book I'm in the middle of, and listening to daddy's music. Daddy's music means the music that my family will put up with, but it's more enjoyable to listen to it (loudly) when they're out of the house. My twenty-one year old stepson is pretty much okay with whatever I play, but I don't welcome his presence if I'm bopping around like a 53-year-old, regressing to his punk days.
I heard this morning that my dad is back in the emergency room. He's got a frequent visitor card there now that gets him free coffee. I guess he woke up with a fever, but he was out last night, partying with the family, and by partying I mean driving around gazing at holiday lights through the passenger window and finishing that up with a steak and shake. Hang in there dad. Maybe you should switch to yogurt. At least I like rice and yogurt. My father has ethical reasons for not eating those foods. ("Have you seen how they grow rice?")
So, for all of you out there, bustling around in that crazy consumerist haze, take a break. Listen the rain tapping on the car roof. Think about warmer climes. Wiggle your toes and realize that this thing called life continues on whether we shop or drop. Let's enjoy these moments to their fullest, and be nice to the clerks this season. They are the wage slaves of America; many without holiday pay or health insurance, but doing their best to give you a smile as they hand you your bags of economic prosperity.