There is an old guy who lives across the street, a couple of houses down. He is kind of ageless, probably between 60 and 90. I have only seen him dressed in one outfit: A blue jumpsuit with a blue cap. He has an old Ford Galaxie, about 1972, which is the same color as his jumpsuit.
Every day, he comes out of his overgrown house with his kind of mangy black dog in tow, and a fluffy calico cat following along. He walks a little bent over and seems to have an old man's stiffness. Despite all that, he plops himself down in the grass and pets the cat and strokes the dog. The dog takes care of his business, then they all three just kind of sit and watch the world go by. I find him fascinating. What did he do with his life? Did he have a wife? A family?
Interestingly, there is another old guy who lives next door. They are almost interchangeable to me, they look so much alike. The guy next door doesn't come out as much and may actually have a job or a life outside the home. Maybe they are brothers, or cousins, or lovers. There is a horrible scene in "Brokeback Mountain" where they show what the townsfolk did to the old gay couple who lived out in the sticks. I can imagine that if there were two guys who were lovers from those days, they would have to be very, very discreet.
The main thing seeing this guy did for me was to make me think of my
future. Someday, I will be old. Will the high point of my day be when I get to take the dog out for a poop? I recently moved my recliner from the living room to my bedroom. We have a kind of bay window setup looking out into the yard, so it makes for a relaxing scene. I have found that the recliner is getting more and more comfortable. Also, this little nook is the closest thing I am going to have for a study/den/computer room for the next couple of years at least. We have a pretty small house and with four of us it is hard to find space for me sometimes.
I also think of my parents, now in their late 70's. Their lives have become much more simple. They love to hear details of my life at least partly because they have a lot of time on their hands. Sometimes it's declining mental health, sometimes declining physical health, but eventually we all slow down. Should I feel guilty for starting to enjoy sitting in my chair a little early? One of my favorite sayings was on the wall behind one of my grade school teachers desk. It said "Sometimes I sits and thinks. Sometimes I just sits."
Every day, he comes out of his overgrown house with his kind of mangy black dog in tow, and a fluffy calico cat following along. He walks a little bent over and seems to have an old man's stiffness. Despite all that, he plops himself down in the grass and pets the cat and strokes the dog. The dog takes care of his business, then they all three just kind of sit and watch the world go by. I find him fascinating. What did he do with his life? Did he have a wife? A family?Interestingly, there is another old guy who lives next door. They are almost interchangeable to me, they look so much alike. The guy next door doesn't come out as much and may actually have a job or a life outside the home. Maybe they are brothers, or cousins, or lovers. There is a horrible scene in "Brokeback Mountain" where they show what the townsfolk did to the old gay couple who lived out in the sticks. I can imagine that if there were two guys who were lovers from those days, they would have to be very, very discreet.
The main thing seeing this guy did for me was to make me think of my
future. Someday, I will be old. Will the high point of my day be when I get to take the dog out for a poop? I recently moved my recliner from the living room to my bedroom. We have a kind of bay window setup looking out into the yard, so it makes for a relaxing scene. I have found that the recliner is getting more and more comfortable. Also, this little nook is the closest thing I am going to have for a study/den/computer room for the next couple of years at least. We have a pretty small house and with four of us it is hard to find space for me sometimes.I also think of my parents, now in their late 70's. Their lives have become much more simple. They love to hear details of my life at least partly because they have a lot of time on their hands. Sometimes it's declining mental health, sometimes declining physical health, but eventually we all slow down. Should I feel guilty for starting to enjoy sitting in my chair a little early? One of my favorite sayings was on the wall behind one of my grade school teachers desk. It said "Sometimes I sits and thinks. Sometimes I just sits."
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