Something is wrong with me. Something is very, very, very wrong. The old body is doing all sorts of funny things, but I am not laughing. Aches, pains, creaks and whistling noises. A sore throat and a dull headache have decided to keep me company.
I don’t feel right, but than again I can’t say that I feel horrible. Not really sure how to explain it better than that.
Caught myself dancing with reckless abandon in front of the mirror. Is it just me or does Reckless Abandon sound like the type of name that Ian Fleming would come up with. He did come up with Pussy Galore and Truly Scrumptious.
Anyhow, the house was empty and the music was blasting and I just lost myself in it. The rules of the blog dictate that I be honest about things like this and well, let’s just say that I have a body that was built for demolition and not dance.
Ask me to run through a wall, not dance in front of it and I’ll be happier. Boy did I look goofy. Still there is something to be said for letting go and just giving into the happy moments when they strike.
This is the 81st post that I have written during the month of June. Eighty-one posts, whooweeee. Now I just need someone to decide to pay me based upon the number of characters I generate.
Going back to dancing, I have more rhythm than Steve Ballmer and I wasn’t nearly as goofy as Patrick Dempsey doing the African Anteater Dance. Which for some reason reminded me of Airplane, I love that bar fight.
And that leads me to putting up a link to Clint Eastwood’s fine Dirty Harry scene about his policy. Good old Dirty Harry, they don’t make cops like they used to. Wow, just look at Clint then and take a look now and you can see that a little time has passed.
I sometimes forget just how long ago it was that some things took place. It makes me sound old to say that, but heck it feels like high school was last week.
That cute four-year-old daughter of mine saw a woman with very large breasts and said “wow, I bet that she could feed a lot of kids.”
That girl of mine is something else. My father told me that I’ll be lucky not to lose all of my hair by next year and he is right. She is fearless. Willing to climb any tower, bookcase, cabinet, structure whatever. And when you tell her that she is misbehaving she gives you a look that melts steel. Fortunately I wear an invisible suit that makes me impervious to that look o’ death.
On the whole she is a good listener, but she does have her moments. Her older brother once pulled a toy out of her hands and received a big surprise. She took the toy right back and smacked him in the head with it. We had a long talk about why we use words and not our fists.
Something is wrong. I just read this post and tried to figure out who wrote it. It can’t really be me. I can’t be this guy. I am still 19 and living the life. Did life have to go so quickly, there is still so much to do.