This past year I turned 71, which of course makes me older than compost. When I was a youngster, dinosaurs still listened to radios with vacuum tubes inside them, and telephones had these weird things called “rotary dials.” Ahh, the good old days. I call them the good old days because when I was a kid it seemed like my body could really take a beating and bounce back for more.

No, this did NOT mean I was out picking fights. I was way too chicken for any of that monkey business. I’m talking about things like riding my big Columbia bike as fast as I could into a hurricane fence, just because I was convinced that this bike was the toughest thing on wheels. Of course, I became airborne when the bike stopped suddenly, but I got away with a few bruises and bumps and went on to the next self-destructive play adventure. Healing up didn’t seem to take too long in those days; and for the most part I could endure lots of bodily clunkings with little residual effect.

But now…

So like there I was, minding my own business, enjoying the luxurious but noisy comfort of the Cub Cadet lawn mowing machine, when I barely brushed past a wild rose bush; and it scratched my skin. Didn’t hurt much… I mean, hey, I knew I was coming up to some thorny stuff. I felt a little scratchy ouching, nothing very intense at all, and a few moments later my arm feels wet. I’M BLEEDING!!! A Lot!! AYYYYYEEEEEE!!! Well OK, I didn’t shriek… but I was amazed at how thin my epidermis has become. Sheesh!! In the “good old days” I would have had a few light scratch marks and maybe just a trace of bleeding.

Oh… and another time… I was playing with our grandson, and decided, “What fun it would be if I ran backwards in a very vigorous manner!!” I said this silently to my self in just that exact way. Or not. Anyway, the next day, my heel hurt like a Giant Squid had impaled me with a Huge Stabbing Thing while I was Using Capital Letters in a Silly and Ridiculous Rant. But seriously, it hurted me awreddy!! Walking was now a very painful endeavor!! Finally went to a physical therapist after a few days, and they said, “Oh, you have plantar fasciitis.” To which I politely replied, “Do what now??” And they explained further, “Yes, you injured the ligament in your heel. Do these stretching exercises and get some inserts for your shoes. In the meantime, be more careful and quit pretending you are 13 years old with the backward zooming ouch happenings.”

They may not have said it exactly that way… but after a few months… MONTHS… the foot thing finally healed up.

Oh yes, another fond memory!! So there I was again, hoping to show how agile I could be, attempting to do a jump to the top of some perfectly usable concrete stairs without actually walking up the stairs. I placed my hands at the top of the concrete staircase… and I’m thinking, “Sheesh, there are only 3 stairs, I shall jump up like a spry kitty cat for the fun of it.” It never occurred to me that perhaps I might smash my shin bone into the top of the steps on the way up. And yes, I made it to the top but WAAHHH HOTCHAMOOFA OY YOY YOY THAT HURT!!! Bad bloody scrapings and bone bonking of the shin area!!! Boy howdy did I feel intelligent upon “completing” such an athletic yet painful task!!

Took several moons for that one to heal properly.

OK. So the moral of the story is: young ouch is better than old ouch. Well sometimes… I suppose it depends on how big the ouching is. And yes, even though I don’t like it much, I am very aware that my body can’t take the punishment it once endured. Oh, and yeah, I can’t jump higher than a bullet or run faster than a speeding building either.

So I’m much more careful. I’m too young to die.

But as the great Henny Youngman used to say: “Doctor!! It hurts when I do this!! So the doctor says, ‘DON’T DO THAT!!’”

Hello, and thank you for tuning in to this week’s antenna ranching installment. The news has been removing my capillaries again, and although the events in the news can put me in a bit of an emotional slump, I’ve decided to staple feathers to my cat’s pajamas and anonymously send ice cream to the White House via parcel post. Surely these stress relief methods will result in at least two or perhaps even seventeen new buttons on Mrs. Jingledweeb’s radish basket.

Huh?? Not to worry… just letting off a little steam there. Nonsense helps me keep my blood pressure down.

But seriously folks, I’m a bit worried. I’ve heard reports of AI chatbots competing with humans for companionship. That’s right, people are talking to chatbots as if they were actually alive. Don’t those folks want to enjoy reality? I guess I should not be surprised, humans have been drifting farther and farther away from Nature since the Industrial Revolution.

On the other hand, there are fingers and fingernails. Or at least I hope so. And in addition and also as well, there is the crazy situation going on in Congress. The fact that so many think it’s very OK to terminate health benefits for needy people so rich folks can enjoy tax breaks makes me want to barf on the ground.

What can I do about all this? Well I can vote, but it’s not time yet. I can choose to be annoyed and shriek to friends and family about the woes of the world, but they are often just as sad about all this as I am so that would be unkind. So I do my best to limit my news intake and be as happy as possible.

Even though I’m growing older, I’m still a child in old man’s clothing. I’m usually the one who likes to be silly and help my loved ones (friends and family) laugh. I do my best to stay grateful; and I verbalize that to them. However when I’m down, they are often alarmed. Some of them remind me of things I would normally be saying to them; and believe me, that’s a very good thing for me.  I just need to adjust what’s going on between my ears.

The reminders all basically boil down to these simple guidelines:

A) Don’t sweat the small stuff.

12) EVERYTHING is small stuff.

7) Maintain some boundaries – stay close to those who love you, and be kind to those who are ornery. They probably just find it difficult to be happy..

p4) Don’t take this life stuff too seriously.

*@) Try to smile. It is much more pleasant than frowning; and

Red) There are many in this world who are much less fortunate than me.

So, the last couple days I’ve been reprogramming. Funny how the older I get, the less I know. If I can stay in that frame of mind, I can survive this life stuff by learning new ways to cope. I can let go of the things I simply can’t control. I can raise a nice garden and get my hands nice and dirty! I can spend time with friends! I can take time to laugh! I can even stop using so many exclamation points!

Or not!!

And, I can include a video that is very silly indeed… and laughter is very good medicine.

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and as much as I dislike admitting it, I’m getting old. I think. I’m 71. Is that old? Maybe for some of you, but maybe not for others. Anyway I learned a new word recently. I’m counting that as a new trick this old dog has learned. Hey, I’ll take it wherever I can get it!

So my new word is: dendrolatry. It’s pronounced den-DROL-a-tree and it refers to the worship of trees. I don’t hear it used much. Well OK I don’t hear it used at all, but since I’ve considered myself a tree hugger for many decades I can honestly say that I’ve found trees to be very, very special in our universe. I mean, who doesn’t like trees, am I right?

Perhaps it’s a bit of a stretch for some folks, but I’ve considered my tree hugging ways to be a peaceful and subtle form of protest. I love to grow food, and I do my best to grow with Mother Nature’s help. That of course means no chemical anything is added to my soil or sprayed on my plants. The only thing I buy for the garden is seeds; and I often save my own. I like to think of it as my contribution to the reduction of carbon emissions for this poor warming planet.

My professional opinion is that actions can be a form of protest. Besides voting at the ballot box, spending choices can also make a positive impact. For example, I’ve decided to boycott Amazon. Jeff Bezos has way too much money and he treats his employees like garbage. Additionally, he and his billionaire cronies are wielding way too much power over goings on in Washington. So Amazon won’t get my money anymore.

Other ways to do good with my bucks are to donate to the ACLU, Public Broadcasting, independent news sources like The Guardian and The Associated Press; and of course I do my best to help those less fortunate than me by donating to the local rescue mission.

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve probably heard that there will be big “No Kings” protests tomorrow (October 18). Some politicians (and others) are trying to disparage the protesters by saying things like the “No Kings” protests are actually “We Hate America” rallies.

Well as Tricky Dick (Richard Nixon) used to utter, “Let me say this about that.”

When I was much younger we protested against corruption. We protested against racial injustice. We protested against war. We protested against gender inequality. We protested against the poisoning of Mother Nature. Yet here we are again. I’m not foolish enough to suggest that these crimes against humanity and Mother Nature can be rectified quickly. It will take constant effort; and yes, most likely, more protests. But protests are empty actions if we sit on our laurels and watch the yelling from afar. At the very least, all of us must VOTE, both at the ballot box and with our money. And of course, all of us must treat everyone we meet with respect.

Every day.

We can do this. We must do this. Otherwise, we’ll just end up sad, frightened, frustrated and exhausted.

What kind of life would that be??

It’s all been going on too long.

What the HECK is going on here?? I mean, the day before yesterday it was Memorial Day; and now it’s almost October awreddy and I’m just now getting ready to put garlic in the garden!! I’m sorry but time seems to be flying faster than ever, and I really don’t think it’s fair!  I’m thinking there must be some type of time warp going on…

Our daughter will be 48 this year!! And our son is already 43!!  Sheesh!! And our daughter and her awesome husband have two boys who are 16 and 12 years old. They were babies just a few weeks ago!! WHAT IS GOING ON??? Very soon after our daughter and son-in-law had their first kid, I warned them that they will soon notice something very strange: time will vanish much more quickly with each passing day.

Or at least it sure seems to go fast. As a friend of mine once told me, “You know what the frogs say… ‘time’s fun when you’re having flies!!’ “

Well this time zooming stuff is exactly what happening to me these days. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m getting older; and for that very reason I treasure each day I am on the planet. I kinda like it here! I’m not worried about what comes next; I’m pretty much convinced that cool stuff awaits us in the Great Beyond. But hey, let’s not rush things. I’m here now and loving life. And Holy Cow, I’m a grandparent!! I mean, hey, my wife and I were just dating a couple years ago!!

OK, it’s like this, awright?? I remember vividly when the Beatles first came to America on the Mayflower like 5 or 6 years ago! Or something… Anyway, I really do remember sitting in my grandparents’ apartment in Brooklyn, NY when I was just short of 10 years old. My 8 transistor radio was glued to my ear while the Fab Four disembarked at JFK airport; with all the media of the day interviewing them every step of the way through the crowd of screaming fans. I even jokingly mentioned, “Hey Dad!! The Beatles just landed at JFK! We could go over there to see ‘em!!” “Yeah right!!” he retorted.

I’m not 10 anymore. I’m 71 !! How is this possible?? I remember not to long ago I was lusting to retire at age 66. When you were a kid, do you ever remember wanting to be 66? Well I’ve been there, man!! So glad to be done with this working stuff. Yes, money is smaller now. But being an old fart isn’t so bad… I get to be a grandpa!

One cool thing about being a grandpa is that you get to reflect on all the changes that have happened over the years. Any of you who are old like me understand that life is exactly the same as when we were younger, only completely different. With technology alone, things have changed just a wee bit.

Picture this, kiddies. When I was born in 1954, commercial TV had only been rockin’ for about 13 years. Most stuff on TV was live broadcasts. If you had the TV on too early, you’d see a test pattern. If you had it on too late, you’d see a flag waving in the breeze while the national anthem was playing just prior to the station shutting down for the night. Although TV was on the rise, there were still dramas and comedies being made for and played on the radio. And when you turned on either a radio or a TV, you had to wait a few minutes for them to warm up. That’s because the tubes and their associated circuits had to stabilize. Tubes?? Say what?? Yes, tubes. And even after the radio or TV warmed up you often had to mess with the fine tuning to keep your signals coming in clearly. When you dialed a phone, you literally used a dial on the phone. None of the phones took batteries in those days. No fancy ring tones, just a bell. I know that some of you readers out there can outdo me on the dinosaur technology memories; but you get my drift.

Although I’m retired now, I do remember those “good old days” of work I also remember some “black holes” where a time warp knocked me in the head when I least expected it. For example: I’d scurry to get ready for work in the morning. Most of this zaniness was self inflicted, because I’d sleep till the last minute and then play fireman to get ready for the ride to work. We heat with sticks (we have wood heat), so in the colder months it’s my job to get the fires going. One is downstairs in the old part of the house, one upstairs in the addition. I’d start the furnace downstairs and then grab an armload of wood to feed the wood eater upstairs.

Next, I’d yank open the fridge and grab my lunch; shove it into the fancy Igloo cooler my friend Jeff got me for two bucks at a yard sale.

Pour the coffee into the travel mug, grab the cell phone, and head for the garage at precisely 6:54 a.m.

Situate my lunch on the passenger seat, stick my coffee mug into the cup holder, come around to the driver’s seat and turn on the car.

THE CLOCK NOW SAYS 7:03 A.M. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!! There is NO WAY it takes me 9 minutes to walk from my back door to the garage. And yes, the car’s clock is correct; just like the clock inside. I’m pretty anal about that.

Time warp I tell ya!!

If you are old enough to remember the Rocky Horror Picture Show… I mean really remember, meaning you were old enough to enjoy it when it first came on the scene… well then you and I really are in a time warp. Aren’t we?

Don’t believe any of this time warp nonsense? Well all I can say is: I bet you don’t have kids. Even if you don’t, you’re gonna get old like me some day.

You’ll see…

Good evening ladles and jellyspoons! In light of the current news whirlwind, my serious and saddened me thought seriously about being very solemn with this week’s “Happy Friday!!!” installment. However, my childlike, hopeful me thought it might be better to dig a happy story out of the dust closet (archives) for what I hope will be a catalyst for all of you to take a break from the news and maybe even smile a tiny bit.

So here’s a nice memory from way back in 2016. Our grandsons were much tinier back then… Oliver had just hit the ripe old age of 7, and Gabe was well on his way to enjoying his 3rd trip around the sun. Without any further ado, here’s a little story about…

What Matters Most

Three of the biggest kids in our family stayed up way too late watching cartoons again tonight. Our two grandsons and I were having a grand old time with Marvin The Martian, Heckle and Jeckle, The Tazmanian Devil, and some newer, computer animated cartoons we’d never seen before.

A couple hours before they were playing Star Wars games of some sort. The two brothers took our only small, reasonably kid proof flashlight into the bathroom and closed the door. In Ollie’s imagination, the flashlight served a dual purpose: illumination device and light saber.

Nini and I were on the couch and listened carefully, then I raised my voice a bit and asked what they were doing in there. No reply. I asked again, a little more loudly. “We’re just playing…” the response was audible at first and tapered off, which kicked in our Parent Spidey Senses. My magnifying mind had them mixing nail polish with toothpaste or something. These boys are the ripe old ages of 7 and 3 so there’s no telling what they’re gonna do.

I raised my voice a little more and bellowed, “open the door.” They were simply enjoying the fun a flashlight brings on the mirror and other shiny surfaces. Gabe, the 3 year old, came up to me with wide eyes and a very serious tone and said, “I need to go to the force!!” Apparently, “the force” was in the dark bathroom with the door closed.

“You need the force? I’ll make a big force!!,” I said. Then I got up and turned all the lights off; making the entire back of the house a dark force dwelling. That satisfied both of them; but one problem remained. There was only ONE flashlight. A quick trip to the store would solve that. “Make sure they are the same,” Nini urged. “Oh yes,” I replied.

I mean hey, I’m not as dumb as I look.

After the force was with them for a half hour or so, it was getting close to bed time. At our house, that means cartoons. It’s become a tradition: Nini (Granny) hits the hay earlier than us boys. She stretched out on the other couch and nodded off a couple times. After announcing once or twice, “I’m falling asleep,” she got up and kissed us all goodnight.

We watched a few funny animal videos, then switched to cartoons. As their normal bed time became a thing in the distant past, Ollie uttered his normal stalling sentence. “Just one more cartoon Papa. Please?”

OK. One more. And one more after that, and of course one last “one more.”

By this time it was very close to 10 PM, and both were so tired their brain waves where getting pretty wonky. Nice thing about them being dog tired though, is that neither of them fought when I tucked them in; and just a few microseconds after I said “good night,” they were out.

Nini and I are both very aware that our “rock star” status won’t last forever. As they mature, their friends will get much more of their free time than we will; so we’ve learned to stop everything in our world for what matters most.

We’re loving every minute of it.

As I mentioned earlier, we watched some of the “traditional” cartoons… like the kind Nini and I watched while we were growing up.  Here’s a newer one we found that was pretty entertaining.