And I wrote quite an essay on growing old if I could only find it. Quite novel, it approached the issue from the fact that I still trounce the odd twenty-year-old on the Internet games, there comes a time to let the other bastard win. That is a terrible reversal of my stand since 1972, when I stated winner take all, that it never becomes somebody else’s “turn” to win. I knew no limits until a month ago. The only person who could type faster than me was a typing specialist. But my casual speed fell from 81 to 46 wpm, and it makes me tired to push beyond that. It was like that in every field that made any difference to me. Now, the focus is no longer on figuring out how to take advantage of their ignorance, but to just be amused by their wastefulness.
I’ve always known the law must protect the stupid from the smart much along the lines it has always protected the rich from the poor, but it no longer bothers me. Ignorance of the law is no excuse, but it is certainly a very good defense these days. You have to prove, at your own expense, in his culture which has neither freeways or automobiles, that therefore he ought to have known driving 120 mph was unsafe before you can begin to sue for negligence! Late yesterday, I lost my voice, and today it seems Chuck and his daughter have it, so it is going around. Plus, the prescription has dried out my eyes a bit, making it difficult to blink, and no, taking eyedrops is not the answer, it is not that kind of dryness.
Later, I am plainly really ill for the first time in over ten years. I feel drained and listless, beyond what could be associated with overwork or exhaustion. For the first time, I can understand what some people complain about as weariness. It is not tiredness or laziness or a missing spark of motivation, but a deep inside sense of finally used up energy that no amount of rest or exercise can ever restore. I pity people who experienced this much younger as even now I know that some level of vitality will return after I get over this infection. Besides throwing my biological clock off, I have crazy cravings for foods I am usually indifferent about, like sour apples. I may have to buy a wrist watch for the first time since 1986, and I can somehow now awake without any sense of how long I just slept, where before I could guess to the half-hour.
All of this is more carefully documented with Marion, plus more the details I cautiously leave out of anything that might get published. She knows that I am really up against something new this time around. I will always distrust a prescription before admitting anything serious or permanent is wrong, and I am taking a lot of pills these days. I’m okay with preventative medicines, but otherwise I tend to follow a sense of Nature. If you get an ache or pain, your body is telling you to stop that activity, not to take a painkiller and carry on. [Sorry, those with sports injuries get no mercy either. Tennis elbow and such are always avoidable and unnecessary.]
Food. That rice at the Lebanese festival was too good. I tried to duplicate it at home and got it on the first try. The ingredient is salted butter, not much, but just enough to shine the mixture, and throw it off any reputable diet. I see the Mars mission is meeting expectations, except mine, which places the event thirty years too late. Everyone is saying the pictures are so great but I don’t know, and they are stills. Not that I expect much to move on Mars, but I do anticipate signs of life. My theory is that life will arise anywhere it possibly can, and that DNA is a very successful adaptation although not the only one. Plenty of long-term conditions for life, in my opinion, have existed on Mars in the past.
I’m still considering a move to Ft. Lauderdale, even if it triples my morning commute. And that’s north Ft. Lauderdale, over thirty miles from here. But at least there are my kind of women up there. Second choice I near the university, but that rarely works for me anymore. I still wonder what happened to Space Hippie, the only person I know arrested for low speed evasion. Oh yea, he’s got lots of gigs where they “want a trio”. But the minute he gets broke, he takes off and does singles for a few months. Then reappears and expects you to remember all his original material. They only thing learned here is that cops can stand in front of your car and prevent you from moving, but that is neither false arrest or detainment, but if you try to move, they’ll swear you tried to run them down. He could tell you all about it. Broward, where the police need a PR department.
