Rollin' Like Sisyphus

Another Year Closer To The Drink

Posted in Life's A Gamble by Huckleberry on April 24, 2014

Comin' home.

Comin’ home.


Thirty seven years ago, I was brought forth upon this rock to help chronicle it’s decline.
I know I say this every year, but hot damn I didn’t figure on 1) seeing 37 then 2) resigned to the fact that I would, in fact, see it, that it would be as counter-productive as its been.
And again, while I complain about the decline of my physical and mental prowess ceaselessly, especially in the past few years, I’m not oblivious to the fact that, examined from the outside, those diminishments are rather minuscule. I can still run a mile in under 6 minutes. I can still bench press, squat and deadlift respectable amounts of weight. I can shoot as straight as I ever could, I’m deadly accurate with a recurve bow, I still have the firing orders for the small block Chevy, 440 Mopar and 427 Ford BOSS engines committed to memory without trying to keep them there. I can still accurately dead-time an engine out of rote habit.
My point is, to the average acquaintance, my lamentations of personal decline may ring somewhat hollow or melodramatic. While I can still do a lot of what I used to, I don’t quite do it as well. I used to run a 5:25 minute mile. I used to lift considerably more weight in all of those exercises, I used to be able to get through a humid day without my left knee wanting to carve itself out of me to go commit suicide from the pain. I used to never have a “brain fart” or writer’s block. Most of my friends who knew me well back then and continue to know me now have noticed this decline, as I have noticed theirs. Not enough to be an impairment, but enough to foreshadow the imminent state that awaits us all. That’s what these years are; the methodical process of adjusting to the inevitable.
So be it.
Anyway, it’s also the Wife’s birthday, so she’s baking a cake, I’m cue’n up tri-tip, and with a little imbibing, we’ll enjoy the day while we have it.

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4 Responses

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  1. Doom said, on April 24, 2014 at 15:52

    I’ve been asleep at least as long as Rip Van Winkle, I’m waking to a world which has fallen apart but just doesn’t know it, to a body that is still pretty close to dead, so I don’t have a lot of sympathy. Envy, perhaps, but not sympathy. I don’t even have a wife to complain about.

    I don’t even have sympathy for myself, if I do whine from time to time, so I ought to give you that. Too much to do, so little time! If I could… just stay awake regularly. I’m still not awake, and may never fully wake until the final good night, but I have moved, bought a home that is… good, and some land, and have a bit stowed for the fall.

    Oh, don’t have sympathy for me, either. I don’t need or want it. A good swift kick in the butt, a word to the wise, a bit of tech advice, notions on ‘what next’, and such, sure.

    Now, hop to, Hezus. :p

    Oh, and happy birthday, you old fart! *damn kids* Same to the mrs., minus the old fart thing. Women have no sense of humor about such.

  2. Doom said, on April 24, 2014 at 19:08

    I put a post up, in your… memory. :p

  3. Giraffe said, on April 25, 2014 at 10:19

    It is somewhat distressing that I am also starting the decline and I’ve done nothing of note with my life.


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