Rollin' Like Sisyphus

A Modest Goal at 34

Posted in The Fail Pail by Huckleberry on April 20, 2011

The older I get, the more I realize I studied the wrong thing. Plus, another day older and deeper in death.

As my 34th birthday approaches (Sunday, me and the wife sharing a birthday with the Risen Christ — good times), I’ve been given to mounting reflection on What It All Means™ because my entire life, I’ve had “34” ingrained in my mind as the peak, the best-case scenario halfway point of my life.
The reason that is so is because my family, on both sides, is notorious for living hard, dense, brilliant lives that flash out of existence long before most people.
Readers of the old blog know this:
Maternal Grandfather: Dead at 64, Hydrocephalus
Maternal Grandmother: Dead at 63, Heart Attack
Paternal Grandfather: Dead at 63, Stabbed
Paternal Grandmother: Dead at 62, Congenital Heart Failure
Father: Dead at 51, Car Accident
Mother: Dead at 41, Car Accident
Uncle 1: Dead at 38, ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease)
Uncle 2: Dead at 29, Executed by the State of Tennessee
Uncle 3: Dead at 24, Congenital Heart Failure
Cousin 1 (USMC): Dead at 21, KIA in a Theater of War (I’m not telling which one)
Cousin 2: Dead at 19, Carjacked
So, you see I’ve already sort of beat expectations through virtue of making it as far as I have, but I want more.
Also, since I’ve already done all of the ridiculous living that I plan to do, and the wild days are mercifully behind me, my goal as I approach my next birthday is a simple one, but one that seems like a veritable mountain: I want four more solid decades alive.
40 years.
I just want to make it to 74, and beat my Grandfather by a decade.
It doesn’t seem like too much to ask, but you just never know.

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7 Responses

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  1. Giraffe said, on April 20, 2011 at 15:24

    Good luck.

    I don’t have any concrete goals. So for now, my goal is to have a goal.

  2. Doom said, on April 20, 2011 at 17:05

    I don’t mean to laugh at you personally, but the notion gives my funny bone a shot of juice. Having been dead three times, from various sources the last two self inflicted, I finally gave up on thinking about life. There were about 5 years after all that where I simply wanted to be dead, after the last attempt. I finally started liking being alive, sort of, for the last 12 years. In that time, I found out I have high blood pressure, which at times I have been told is so high nurses only see it in people who are having a stroke or heart attack. It is either untreatable or the doctors aren’t trying. As well, I was diagnosed with diabetes (which I can handle with diet, and quite well). Since they aren’t going to offer what works to any degree with my high blood pressure, I have given up on tending diabetes. I and still I just cannot seem to die.

    The whole thing about wanting, getting, and all, with regards to life, is just a twisted funny sad crazy thing. I do hope you get your forty years. I hope they are healthy and happy, too. I still think your best bet is to never even let it cross your mind again. No matter what you want, it doesn’t affect a thing. Even what you do may have little impact on events. I only, mostly, eat meat and drink milk (and soda). I have for decades. It just doesn’t seem to matter.

    Good luck. Bon voyagee.

  3. El Borak said, on April 22, 2011 at 13:04

    34 always stuck in my mind, too, because that was how old I was going to be when the year 2000 rolled around, and as a kid I figured I’d never live that long.

  4. Huckleberry said, on April 28, 2011 at 15:56

    Me either.

  5. kfc said, on June 9, 2011 at 08:27

    Blowing you a friendly kiss, a big hug, and a wish for a great, long, happy & healthy life, Huckaboo.


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