Approaching fifty isn’t so bad if you enjoy reading on the toilet.
My good friend, Vic, who has known me even before birth, sent me a periodical with another old friend, Matthew McConawho, the famous actor and well spoken southern fried heartthrob with Matt’s picture on the front cover just to irritate me. I wasn’t quite sure if he was making fun of Matt, or me and my age, which seems to elevate with each year. Father time is real, but the magazine, AARP, helps the elderly deal with it with grace, or simply understanding we are not from the planet, Crypton.
I have hip problems. I’ve had them since I was six. Not Sixty, or ninety something, as my other dear friend is dealing with, and dealing with it with grace. (The nurses at the facility wanted to keep him around because he made older nurses only feel middle aged. God Bless him)
Back to me. I suffered from a rare disease called Perthes Disease affecting children, mostly between the ages of six and eight. I wound up in leg braces for two years, and they were very charming and helpful for an over active child also suffering from the love of baseball, football, and basketball. After two years, I was cured….so to speak. Upon being released from these shackles, the doctors told me I would have a steel hip as a replacement by the time II was legally able to vote or drink. I beat those odds. I thought the disability was just a minor league stepping stone to greatness, but greatness and goodness are two very different regions one must accept. I believe Goodness always conquers greatness. Goodness is when the common good, like cinnamon toast at home beats the 5.99 special at Thee International House of Pancakes doused in syrupy fruit and flour only a diabetic could properly appreciate. Goodness is thanking a veteran or providing socks to the homeless while sharing Thanksgiving with them, even if they would prefer a pack of unfiltered cigarettes. Greatness is overlooking a Puget Sound view with someone you love wishing not to toss them off the 400 ft. drop below. That’s when love, greatness, peace, understanding, forgiveness and all that other crap become synonymous.
It can be a good and great life. As long as you aren’t a terrible golfer. That ruins everything.