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terribleturnip

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On Aging [Nov. 18th, 2008|08:19 am]
terribleturnip
Remember when you were a kid and it took for-ever for your birthday to show up? And when you wanted that Breyer Horse Stable and it was MONTHS until Christmas?

Now I feel like I'm in a snowball fight with Father Time and that sonofabitch has got an arm, lemme tell ya. I still duck well thankfully, but those dates are just whizzing by me.

My knees have become the junker car I drove in my twenties, and again I'm having pleading conversations that run along the lines of "hey, you HAVE to last. If you go, I won't be able to get around and I can't replace you right now."



So far, my CRS (can't remember poop) has been about normal. Sure, a little slippage, but about the same as when I was younger. Then, of course, I could blame it on alcohol and hard living. Now...I'm still not directly blaming it on age. I think of it more like -- when you're young, your brain is like the bathroom. It's of good size, and you've got a fair amount of stuff in there...but you can usually find what you're looking for in a reasonable amount of time.

By now, at this age, my brain resembles my entire house. There's all sorts of room and all the rooms are filled with all sorts of crap. Nooks and crannies and unlabeled boxes abound. And a lot of it could be thrown out. But just like that rubber gasket that you move from one place to another, thinking what the hell does this go to and finally you throw it out and the very next day, you realize that it's the very thing that keeps the salad spinner from sliding around on the counter. Oh, I won't need to remember THAT, I have it written down...reminds you that redundancy is not just the friend of engineers.

But this morning I think I found another reason why old people sometimes seem dotty. It's not that we can't remember, or we've gone all dotty and dumb. It's habit. When I was younger and popped the sideview mirror off the passenger side of my car, I'd go to look out that mirror and think "oh, damn, there's no mirror" which I dealt with for a while and then eventually replaced it. But I'd only been using a side mirror for a couple of years, so seeing something in it was still a novelty -- I still would marvel at the "objects seem...

Now, I look into that same mirror and don't see a car and think "oh, no car, I can move over" because I've been looking in that side view mirror for 29 years. And when there's no car, there's no car, it's safe!

Sadly, right now, there's no mirror, either, but my overcrowded brain has clearly jettisoned the "make sure there's a mirror, first" part of reasoning, the salad spinner rubber gasket of changing lanes on the highway.

So, sir, into whom I almost drove this morning...I apologize. I have made an appointment to have it fixed and in the meantime have affixed a post-it note that says "No mirror" just to remind me that absence of car in a non-existent mirror does not actually mean absence of car on the road.

Oh, it's going to be an interesting next couple of decades...
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: kitteblue
2008-11-18 01:51 pm (UTC)

Breyer horses

Did you get tot the insanity of customizing and "showing"? I stll have the limited additions in the attic (including some of my dads china ones.)
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[User Picture]From: terribleturnip
2008-11-18 03:35 pm (UTC)

Re: Breyer horses

I consistently got a blue ribbon at the local fair for "Youth Collection" (which now has a more sinister ring) but other than making some homemade tack and "costuming"...I still have them, though...

My parents decided that my pre-teen lardass would be better served with lessons, and actually working in a stable, although I confess that when I ran across a Breyer model a couple of months back that looked EXACTLY like my Damien (which isn't easy when you're a blanket Appaloosa!) I bought it. And one for my niece.
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[User Picture]From: kitteblue
2008-11-18 03:38 pm (UTC)

Re: Breyer horses

Yep, I rode too. Grandma had a farm, I did Arabians mostly.
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[User Picture]From: lowlandscot
2008-11-18 03:35 pm (UTC)
So objects in imaginary mirrors are much closer than they appear? My brain played the same trick on me for the two weeks that passed between my kids breaking the toilet seat and me installing the replacement. The bottom of the toilet was also much closer than it appeared.
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