Monday, April 07, 2014
review of my oldest blog, by Anonymous, a regular follower of thebroadsside.blogspot.com "May I simply just say what a relief to uncover someone that truly knows what they're talking about on the web. You definitely know how to bring a problem to light and make it important. A lot more people need to read this and understand this side of your story. It's surprising you're not more popular since you certainly possess the gift."
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
My son in Texas claimed my golfcart, so living in Tecopa while Kathy is laid up, is NOT possible for me at my advanced stage of Rheumatoid arthritis, up from my toes. I'm planning with Lisa Schade to land in Bishop, and volunteer to nurse orphans at her I CARE rescue facility. Just got my retirement benefits coming in, so I will be able to afford California rents, and taxi rides to the grocery store, and play with Lillian in her last years with her desert clans. Jon Zellhaufer was the town's only?landlord, but he's been missing in Florida for years, so there must be squatters at downtown. these days, probably nesting with my household stash that I left behind.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Jahnean has a new bumpber sticker on her WindStar...something political about gays and straights, that is embarrassing because it overlooks Lesbian Feminism...so typical of the masculinist Southern homo community.
Old Age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometimes despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 & 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore.Quest-ioning One's Self is rudder worship. Sage says so, says so!!! I've even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)