You know, you get to a certain age and the surest way you know the weather is changing is that you're tired all the time. At least it seems to work that way for me. I'm coming up on One Of Those Birthdays in a couple of weeks, so I guess I'm thinking about that a little, around the edges.
I'm playing a zany expert in Kabbalah and other arcane rituals in an indie film this weekend; in real life I know nothing of such stuff, so it should be fun to make knowing comments about life beyond the veil. After that I'll play Tiresias, the blind prophet of Apollo in Thebes, in a staged reading of a new comic resetting of Oedipus. So clearly the next few weeks are for indulging in mysticism.
This is an old key, newly revealed, and ought to work like new - but with publishers these days, who knows. If you have trouble with it, please let me know. This key should not be good in Russia, sorry Russians.
I feel you.
I was never one of those kids who wanted to be older. I was always someone who disliked birthdays because it meant another year had passed. Or maybe more significantly, one less year to live. I'm not sure how a child gets those ideas but as far back as I can remember, that's what I'd think as my birthday approached.
I hit a big round number almost 7 years ago. It's hard to imagine hitting another one in just 3 more. I don't feel old. Or, well, maybe I do. But I don't act old. I don't let it dictate what I can do. But I find myself testing my body. Not in the ways I did when I was younger. I'm not talking about hiking all day or running a mile in the middle of the day in the summer.
But I can sit cross-legged, flat on the floor like when I was a kid. Better yet, I can get up off the ground from that sitting position without holding on to anything. I can balance on one leg with my eyes closed. I can reach one arm over my shoulder and the other back up behind me and touch my fingertips together. I'm probably not old enough to have lost the ability to do these things yet, but they are all things that go as you get older. And they are coming.
Oh, and the jokes are all true:
When I was younger I'd be sore for three days because I took a turn that was too sharp on a road with too many loose rocks and my bike went out from under me. Now I'm sore for three days because I slept wrong.
When my brothers and I were kids we'd climb up the ladder at my grandparents' house and jump off the top of it because we thought it was funny the way it made our legs feel all "tingly." Now I misjudge a curb by half an inch and sprain my ankle stepping off it.
I remember playing flag football as a kid and someone accidentally plowing into me, knocking the wind out of me. I was up and playing again the next minute. Last year there was something rolling around loose behind my seat in the car, so when I got to a stop light I tried to reach back and grab it... and pulled a rib. Did you know you could dislocate a rib? I couldn't lift anything over 10 pounds for 2 months.
And here's a bonus line from my friend:
And the worst part of all of this is that there's no good story. At least with the bike crash you can say, "Yeah, I was flying down this road and hit some gravel."
With the rib it was just, "So I was sitting in my car..."
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Thx for the Giveaway!
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Thanks
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Thank you :)
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