Birthdays and Virgil

Ever since I was born, I have been getting older. Better than the alternative, as the old chestnut goes. I'm going to be a year older on my birthday, one month from today, whether I'm ready for it or not.

I'm walking now, instead of running. I proved to myself that I could, and I have. And I did. I'm walking 2 1/2 - 3 miles about three times a week.

I do not have a sedentary job. Some days I walk my ten thousand steps just in the course of my work. I've keep my weight (mostly) down, although it could still go down a little. Well okay, a lot. But I am a pretty healthy specimen, all things considered.

I'm not a weakling, but my hands aren't as strong as they used to be. My hands, yes, my fingers and wrists are lacking stamina. Not what I have been expecting. I can't open my soft drink bottles as easily as I used to. A gallon of milk? What's up with that? It's irritating, I tell ya.

I am also really smart. But it is obvious to me that I'm not as quick as I used to be. I am learning a new routine at work. It's not hard, you don't have to have a degree to do this stuff (and I have a couple of those), but it just seems to be taking me a little while longer to get the routine down than it might have just a couple of years ago.

And I don't like this, not one little bit.

Okay, now I've vented, and in the spirit of my stated goal with this blog, I need to clarify that I am secretly sort of excited to be turning sixty.

Sixty. Sixty.


I sort of like the sound of it. Sixty is wise. Sixty is seasoned.

Guilt, which used to be my constant companion, has left me for a younger, more attractive woman.
Sixty is the adolescence of old age. Like a teenager, I can't wait to see what's next, I am still deciding what I want to do when I "grow up".





Virgil wrote, Haec olim meminisse iuvabit, which according to Robert Fagles*, translates to, "A joy it will be one day, perhaps, to remember even this.". Virgil may have only been referring to Aeneas' troublesome journey, but life is full of ups and downs, and at sixty, I look back on it all with joy, or at least I try to.

I'm laughing as I write this, because, really, how many of my younger readers read Virgil, in Latin, in high school? But that's a commentary on the educational system in this country, and the subject of another blog post, on another day.

And there, dear reader, is another wonderful thing about turning sixty. I can now officially call myself a curmudgeon. Tee hee.

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*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Fagles

Location:Omaha

The One I Didn't Want to Write

If you've been under a rock and haven't heard about Rush Limbaugh's latest gaff, well, you've been under a rock. You know, I've been on the planet long enough to see lots of changes.

> I saw the images on my TV of the fire hoses and the German Shepherds, and I was old enough to be shocked that people would treat other people with such cruelty and disrespect.

> My best girl friend once had to spend frighteningly long weeks planning and arranging and being secretive in order to terminate an unplanned pregnancy at a too young age, when it was illegal in most states, and certainly not something to discuss with one's parents.

> My best gay man friend committed suicide rather than face his life after he was arrested for being gay!

Forty years go by. We think we've evolved. Birth Control is legal. Abortion is (sort of) legal. But, according to Wikipedia, certain sexual activities are still illegal, between consenting adults, in seventy (70) countries, and in the U.S. in 14 states until 2003 *

Fast forward to 2012, the absurdity of a male only congressional panel in a discussion about birthcontrol. Rush Limbaugh's rant/personal attack against a brilliant young law student testifying on the uses of Birth Control Pills other than contraception.

I am using lots of italics here because even though I am wise, and have been around the block a few times, I'm appalled, shocked, outraged, etc. about all of this.

In my city last week, a hearing was held at a City Council Meeting on whether discrimination in the workplace against citizens who are gay, lesbian, or transgender should be illegal. People actually stood up and argued against it. One even expressed concern that it could cause lawsuits against employers. Um, if companies are using sexual orientation or identity as a basis for employment, they should be sued. (Sorry about the italics again.)

Having said all of the above, and not as articulately as I would like to, I'd like to recommend you read this column that ran in the Omaha World-Herald this morning. Written by a very bright young columnist with the unlikely name of Rainbow Rowell. Here is a link to Let's get down to (lady) business: http://omaha.com/article/20120311/LIVING/703119953#rainbow-let-s-get-down-to-lady-business

I didn't want to write this. I wanted to write about Spring coming, the finches in my back hard turning yellow, the dogwood down the street coming into bloom. But I had to let you all know about Rainbow. She said it right.

Maybe next week I'll write about my experiences with menopause. Gotta get the ball rolling on that education about Lady Parts!

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*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sodomy_law
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sodomy_laws_in_the_United_States

Location:Omaha

Teen Drama redux

My son was a teenaged father. There was a bit of drama back then. For a week or so.

Then he picked himself and walked purposefully into a sort of adulthood. Don't get me wrong, there was still some drama... Like the time his pregnant girlfriend threatened to call Child Protective Services on me if I didn't drive over to her parents' house one night at ten o'clock to give him a ride home. Or the time, after they got their own apartment when I got the tearful, frantic call at One am to take their cat to the vet. ~sigh~

I'll never forget the look on my son's face the first time I saw him hold his son. His smile could have outshone the sun that cold winter day.

But all in all, I hand it to the guy. Those first couple of years of fatherhood for him were terribly difficult and he faced his changed life with courage and determination to do right by his children. He grew into his own adulthood with two tiny children, eventually, all by himself.

Fast forward eighteen years. My son married a woman who became Mother to those first two children for the past twelve years. The now grown up father has two teenaged children, a wife who adores him, and an additional three kids. A sprawling family of children whose ages range from two through eighteen. The oldest of whom just moved into his first apartment, is attending college, learning code, playing guitar, practicing parkour, and making all the (hopefully) right mistakes.

The second teenager is a sixteen year old girl. A tall, beautiful, brilliant, and naive young woman. Naive with a capital N.

The kids have been home schooled for the last ten years, learning fast. So earlier this year my granddaughter joined her brother and began taking classes at our local Community College. The transition has been predictable. From my point of view anyway. She's spreading her wings. Did I mention she's terribly naive?

Older boyfriend. Sneaking around. You know the drill. Oh by the way, she's still making straight As. Grin.

Her parents are frantic on the inside. A little terrified, I think. They are remarkably cool and calm on the outside. Her father, the former teenager, refers to himself as stern yet loving. Taking advice from his mother (that would be me) as he should. In other words, he listens, hears everything I say, then makes his own decisions. Because he's a good father. A good man. He is taking care of business while being respectful of his child.

She, being Naive with a Capital N, doesn't get it of course. But she will. Because she's a good kid, beautiful and brilliant. She is learning some very important lessons.

I can't wait until she figures it out. She's going to be amazed, and really impressed with her parents!

I am so proud I could bust.

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Location:Omaha