I want to write this book titled "It Just Happens." It would be about aging and talk/list all of the "all of a sudden" things in life that JUST HAPPEN. Since no one gives you an advanced warning, I would do that for you. Like RIGHT AFTER you turn forty and the last strains of "Happy Birthday" are wrapped (rapped?), your knee gives out. It just does. Body tweaks that once went back to where they were originally just stay in their new home. And one day you have an age spot on your hand. And you want to go "Wait, I didn't sign up for this. This is for people who once got drafted." It JUST HAPPENS. And gray hair, and blurry eyesight and gravity. I thought there would be a Disneyland-type tourguide to announce such things well ahead of time (so I could...prepare?): "Welcome to Tomorrowland. But you in Seat 7, this is Todayland for you! Today we will adventure through Heel Spur Gulch and ride the Varicose Vein Wonder Flume."
But these tour guides are still on a smoke break with the guy that was supposed to tap me on the shoulder 7 years ago and whisper "No. NOW is the time to buy a house. NOW."
Tonight I had a MAJOR middleage trauma. But I was too middleaged to really reel from it. It's a slow burn. That is the trouble. No fanfare, no welcome wagon, just a knowing gummy smile from some vague memory of someone. Oh. Where was I? Right - I have a load of really cool art films and some broccoli in the fridge, but I decided to go off-roading with a potato-mushroom knish and watch an "easy" film. I chose "The Interpreter" starring Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn. Minutes in I had that thing. That thing that you have heard parents and grandparents say before you, "Wait haven't I seen this before?" At least there was someone else (YOU!) in the room when they said it. I sat alone and kept watching and saying stuff like "I remember that guy getting shot, but I think I turned it off before I ever saw Nicole or Sean. Then you see Nicole and Sean and you say "That's right. And the bus will blow up, but I don't think I saw the rest." You saw the rest. But you don't allow that until you have finished. And seen the rest again. Just put "The Interpreter" on a loop because the memory thing is your new home.
You can play this game with "Haven't I read this before?" as well. And the half-full answer to both can be, "Yeah, but this is the first time with Progressive Lenses!"
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In recent years, with all of us "kids" grown and out of the house, my parents have been cleaning out the clutter in part by periodically donating some of their old books to the local library. They do also attend the library book sales to occasionally buy themselves some "new" old books. (You can probably guess where this is going.) At a recent sale, my mom gleefully bought an old book she hadn't thought about in years and was all excited about rereading. When they got home, she opened it... and saw her own name written inside, in her own handwriting. Yep. They sometimes unwittingly buy their own books back.
That'll be us someday!
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