Time Flies

Yes, time flies, and times they are a changin'.

I was having a discussion last night about how things have changed just in the last ten years or so--and that led to a discussion about how things were when I was a kid.

Watching a movie: A man is walking down a busy rural road, and a woman stops to offer him a ride. Can you imagine that happening today? If someone sticks their thumb out, most people roll up their windows and accelerate past them, and pretend that they don't feel guilty for pre-judging the hitcher. Granted, even ten years ago, hitching was dangerous--either for the hitcher, or the driver. Thirty years ago, when I did most of my own hitching, I had a couple of scary experiences with drivers. But I (and others like me) continued to hitch. Today, it's easier to just walk. Trying to hitch will either prove frustrating, get you run down, or if you do get picked up, might just end with you rotting in a remote ditch somewhere.

Locking the doors of your house used to be reserved for times when you were going to be gone for several hours or overnight. In this day and age, however, many people double-lock their doors when they're home--and if they go anywhere besides the nearest convenience store, it's double locks and the security system for their house.

Do the above sound like paranoia? Maybe. But it is paranoia based upon personal experience, as well as what can be gleaned from the news.

And whatever you do, don't call the police. As yesterday's news tells us, even they can't be trusted. When a sheriff's deputy goes into jealous rage and kills six people at a house party, God forbid that we call upon that department for something serious.

It's probably best that you just forget the "good old days." Telling your kids about it justs frustrates and angers them; and remembering those days with nostalgia just makes you less satisfied with your own daily life.

Lock your doors, load your guns, and don't leave your house unless you have to--the Huns are at the gate, and it's ready to give way.

And so it goes...

About this Blog...again.

The title is "Aimless Rambling." I think that I've managed to justify that pretty well over the years, touching on whatever happens to cross my mind when I'm at my computer and in the mood for blogging.

The subtitle is "Infrequent and aimless rants, raves, and ramblings." I definitely have the infrequent part down pat...

And so it goes...

Perspective Has Changed

When I was 16, 17, 18 years old, I did what a lot of my contemporaries did: I made out with my girlfriend(s), I smoked, I drank alcohol, I smoked pot.

I drove like an idiot (which the studies say most teenage boys are until they reach their late twenties), and acted pretty much like one. I thought with my balls instead of my brain, which made for lots of fun but no clear future.

Thirty years later, I'm pretty much the same guy that I was then, except for one major change--I'm a parent.

As a parent, I wonder what my own children are doing--and with whom!

Is my daughter making out with her boyfriend--and just what liberties is he taking with my little girl. Is he taking the same liberties with her that I did with someone's little girl so long ago? The thought makes me shudder, and reach for the shotgun.

Is my son taking similar liberties with another man's daughter? Are these the thoughts that went through my parents' minds thirty years ago?

I clearly remember my teenage and young adult years. I had a lot of fun, and I guess I want my children to have fun in their teen years, too.

But...not with my daughter!!! And son, be careful.

Holy shit. I sound like a parent. I've become my Dad...

Is this when youth is truly lost? When you realize that what you did in your youth wasn't necessarily the best choices you've ever made? And when you try to protect your children from making the same mistakes that you would have resented your parents for trying to keep you from doing?

Parental responsibility vs. youth. Do I have a choice???

And so it goes...

Betrayed

My body is betraying me.

At 48 years old, I'm experiencing random episodes of temporary paralysis (both my arms), my right upper back is killing me due to an ill-resolved issue stemming from about 1990, my hands are afflicted with moderate arthritis, my knees are wrecked, I'm too heavy by about 60 pounds, and I'm going bald.

If I left anything out, it's either an oversight on my part or senile dementia. At this point I'm not sure. All I do know for sure is that if I was offered the chance for an eighteen year old clone body for my brain to be transplanted into, I'd jump at the chance.

Ah, to be that young again! To greet each morning with energy and vitality; to be able to run and jump without fear of my knees popping out of their sockets or my lungs and heart giving out on me.

To be young again would make me appreciate it so much more than my first time around.

But how would I explain to my kids that now I'm the same age as they are? How would that affect the parent-child relationship? Would we even be friends?

Perhaps it's better this way, but I'm not sure that I like it. I've aged quite enough, thank you--I'm done now.

And so it goes...

To Blog or Not to Blog...That is the Question

Today, I was berated for not blogging enough--to wit, I was asked, "[Is] nothing going on in the world worth writing about?"

Of course there is. I could write about the problems I'm having with my teenage daughter. I could write about my son's soccer games, and his growth into manhood. I could write about the health problems that I'm experiencing right now--the ones that have me concerned about my immediate future, as well as the future of my family.

I could write about the accident that destroyed our favorite convertible, but harmed no one. I could blog about the state of affairs in the world.

Or I can do what I do on a daily basis: I deal with my daughter one day at a time, and help to guide her into adulthood with a sense of responsibility. I attend soccer games that my son plays in, and try to squeeze in a couple of hours of quality time with him in between his practices, his games, his schoolwork, and his life. I go to my doctor appointments, follow my doctor's advice, and try not to worry about my health any more than I need to. I deal with insurance companies, finance companies, and car dealers. I read the paper and watch the news, and worry about the world that my children are growing up into--the one that my lonely little blog will not affect in the slightest.

In short, I live my life--full and rich, fraught with daily problems, dilemnas, small happinesses and large disappointments. And if I think at all about blogging, it's a passing thought.

And one that I sometimes--but obviously not often enough--take the time to put into words.

And so it goes...