This is it, I've finally reached the high point of life. This is referred to as becoming an old fart, fogey old goat or as I heard someone describe members of my generation as the "locust generation". Anyway, I've officially arrived. Up to this point I considered myself a senior and I thought that was it. WRONG! So you ask, what's the difference, unless you are there too. Big difference and when you get there you know it. The transition point for me was when I realized that I had turkey neck arms, turkey neck neck and all on the same day I bought a Grabber. That was the final turning point. It's a great little tool. They advertise them on TV. It's about 3' long with a pistol grip thing and suction cups on the other end. You press the trigger and the suction cup close in on anything and you can lock them down to move around things. I bought it because I had a burnt out light bulb and after all these years I'm going to heed my doctors advice and stay off of ladders and step stools. This is after spraining, straining, bruising, cracking and breaking several parts of my body while falling off of various step ladders.
Okay, back to the Grabber. I brought it home and was amazed that it actually worked. I changed the light bulb. As a point of rebellion I used a regular bulb, not one of the Obama bulbs. I'd like to screw him into a socket, but that's a different subject. Of course now that I had used it, I decided to check it out and play with it. I opened the refrigerator, pulled stuff out, put it back, went around the house picking things up and putting them down. I decided to expand my talents and used it to pick up dog cookies and feed the Doos. They were a little skeptical at first but seeing as it contained food they basically said "to hell with it" and ate the cookies.
That's when the devil in me came out and I grabbed Mira by the ass. She couldn't figure out what was grabbing her but she put a lot of distance between her and the evil Grabber. I made a game out of goosing them with it. I thought it was funny as hell but they didn't agree. Lotto being the other old fart in the house looked at the Grabber and then looked at me and growled. That was enough, I know she is serious. I've seen her kick Sunny's ass and I have no doubt she would place that grabber where the sun doesn't shine. I'm thinking of getting a second one to pick up dog shit.
I've realized that being and official old coot comes with some perks. For example I can do granny farts, long and loud ones. This is the act of farting as you walk, usually several farts and keeping in step with the shuffle rhythm. Personally, I've always enjoyed a good fart. One of my favorite things to do to my husband(s) is to fart when in a crowd and then give a dirty look or say "Geez" or something similar. I've even done that to Sunny but he just smiled and wagged his tail and took credit. Yesterday I made a plate of nachos which had a lot of beans and peppers in it. Last night when we were in bed I cut loose with a few and even Lotto, the original fart queen, couldn't deal with it, she gave me dirty looks and went to Sunny's crate. I've always suspected that Sunny was somewhat of an aficionado of farts. He just stayed in bed and took over Lottos spot.
Some of the other perks are being able to dress weird or say what you want and people just chalk it up to being old and accept it. Damn that's fun. Earlier this week I went to town and had on a pair of red seersucker plaid shorts. Of course on me they came to my knees and a blue "Summer of 2011" t-shirt on without a bra. So that means means not only were my shorts to my knees but my boobs were too. I had a pair of bright purple flip flops on. I wasn't quite the "people of Walmart" but I was damn close. Being an old goat gets the reaction of most people call you "sweetheart" and helping you carry stuff. Old age is great. I never knew that all my life when I helped old people that they were scamming on us and really playing the old coot card.
Finally, it's okay to be as eccentric as you want and it's just chalked up as old. Actually, I've always been eccentric, ask my sister, she knows she's eccentric too. I have decided to be a nudest at home. the dogs don't mind, they're nudists too. So if you don't want see me without clothes let me know your coming. I went to see my doctor (actually my nurse practitioner) and found out that I am now 4' 11". I used to be 5' 1 1/2". When you are short, that extra 1/2 inch is important. Just like if you ask a kid how old they are, they always add that fraction on the end. Somehow between then and now I lost a couple of inches. Unfortunately, I kept the pounds. My newest endeavor is studying shamanism. The Indians called them medicine men. The name doesn't matter, the subject is the same. So if you come to visit without calling, you may be able to catch me dancing in the nude in the moonlight with leaves on my head, my grabber in my hand and turkey feathers up my ass. How's that for a visual! Til next time
Life in the Blue Ridge mountains of GA. As seen through the eyes of a pack of Dalmatians and their person.
