Sock #2 of #65


Well, here we are the 2nd day of 65 days of  new socks. (See previous blog.) I am in a better mood and feel no need for vulgarity to express myself today. I am so much wiser now that I am fully 65 years old.

Today is election day in the United States. For over 43 years, I was a registered Republican who increasingly felt out of place in that party. I believed in fiscal responsibility, but could care less who you wanted to have intercourse with…or as I recently found out, who you wanted to jazz with. (Before jazz meant a form of music, it referred to having sex.) I find it fascinating how words keep evolving or changing in terms of their popular meaning and appropriateness.

I know of a very successful American western author who used to write, “Mister, put that rifle down…now,” ejaculated Sheriff Brown. I am fairly certain that if in the writing of this blog post I decided to ejaculate within a sentence, well, who knows maybe my readership might increase – but it might get really weird.  Gawd help ya now if you use the word “queer” for strange or odd. “Mister, I think that was just a queer thing to do,” ejaculated Sheriff Brown.  (Speaking of queer, I just saw that new Queen movie and loved it! Queen’s music was just so good.)  The same holds true for the word gay.  “Mister, being around you makes me so gay,” ejaculated Sheriff Brown.

Here in the United States, especially in education, it is no longer acceptable to use the H word…Hispanic. Now it is Latinx. This started from the historical and cultural use of the word latino when referring to males or groups of males and females. Someone decided this shit ain’t happening no mo. If you really want to score extra points say Latinx with an accent.  “Mister, although I find it queer, I really love Latinx music. It makes me feel so gay, ” ejaculated Sherrif Brown.

I have to admit that I have a queer disorder about accents – I pick them up very quickly. My family used to laugh their asses off because within a few minutes, when I was around someone with a different accent other than my sloppy Northern California one, I soon would start talking with the other person’s accent. Is this a known communication disorder? I think it started with my childhood impersonations of Louis Armstrong….”Oh, Dolly!”

Truth be told, (now there is an out of date saying), it ain’t easy talkin’ anymore, with any accent. I once made the eternal damnation kind of mistake of referring to a mixed gender group of people with the phrase, “Hey guys.” Oh..Shit..On…Me. Did one of those guys get upset. I get it. I also get that one particular person was trying to exert herself and gain more influence with the group, by demonstrating what an insensitive male piece of crap I was. I might have told her to “fuck off” with my eyes. No, I did tell her to fuck off with my eyes.  (Dang it, sorry. about the vulgarity) It was just a common phrase I grew up with and those are hard habits to break, but I understand the point and I have only done it a couple of times since. You see, I have heard groups of women say, “Hey guys let’s go..” and nobody freaked  out on them and said, “I don’t have a penis asshole.”

Same goes with the word gang. In the old days the word gang didn’t refer to anything more than just your group of close friends. Not now, uh-uh. “Mister, this queer gang you hang out with sure makes me feel gay especially when I am listening to latinx music, ” ejaculated Sheriff Brown. Oh and God help ya, if you don’t have time to meet with someone at the moment but suggest you can hookup with them later. Apparently that means you’re about to get some jazz.

Yeah, it ain’t easy being surrounded by the the word cops, but I got an idea. The next time I am in a meeting, and I might have to manipulate the conversation to make this happen, and someone says, “There is  a grandfather clause in the new rule. We will be grandfathered in”…well I am gonna jump their shit and say, “I have 7 grandchildren you bastard. What are you saying? How insensitive of you. Why not say grandmother clause? This is ageism, sexism, and, and, and … creepism and I ain’t gonna take it. What’s wrong with you guys???…..whoops,” ejaculated Gary.




65 Socks and a Grumpy Old Man

I turn 65 years old today. That seems like an enormous number to me. I don’t handle these types of milestones very well. I remember when I turned 30, I got drunk off my ass, “30 years old, what the hell is happening to my life? What have I accomplished?”

Well, fortunately, I don’t drink alcohol much any longer. I still will have an occasional drink, but after dealing with severe depression for a long time, I recognized alcohol was not my friend…but I do like tequilla, a lot.

Reaching 65 is weird. In the U.S., it is the age that you qualify for Medicare. (Since it is my birthday, I am going to give me the gift of using the F word  in this posting, please cover up your ears.) Medicare is the government provided health insurance program. Question: In this country that spends billions on building bombs, why can’t everyone have Medicare regardless of age? What the fuck is up with that? We can afford it.

Also, when you reach 65, and you’re still  employed, you realize how much the world has changed, especially due to technology. What the fuck is up with social media? So many people seem to be branding themselves, representing themselves like they are a fucking laundry soap or cereal. (By the way, I just ate a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. I usually drive through Jack-in-the Box and get a breakfast sandwich on my way to work. I love them damn things. My goal – always have to have a goal- is to see how many days I can go without stopping at a fast food place. I am at 10 hours and 2 minutes so far, piece of cake. Speaking of cake, had some wonderful strawberry cake and ice cream this weekend  with my family to celebrate 65.) Here’s the deal, most of us, nearly all of us, are just trying to keep our craziness under control. We need one another, as much as we get sick of one another. The best moments in life is when you see the love someone has for you reflected in their eyes. Technology, computers, video games, social media, cable television, cell phones, all the rest of that shit is just interfering with those moments. You know what many, many, many young males – from 8 years old to 30 years old and beyond say is their life goal? It is to create their own video gaming channel on YouTube and get paid a “million dollars a year.” No shit. This technology is eating our fucking brains out. It also allows us to hide behind it, especially when in the midst strangers.

So you can see from this rambling that I indeed don’t handle these birthday milestones very well and my wife knew that would be the case. So for my birthday, among other things, she decided to make something I have said since she’s known me… a reality.

I said once, and many times since, that if I was fabulously wealthy, I would put on a new pair of socks every morning of my life. I LOVE the feeling of new socks when they go on my feet. I know, I know, it would not take an enormous leap of imagination to see some sexual Freudian thing going on here. I give you that, but honestly, it feels so good to put on new socks. So at my family birthday party this weekend my wife handed me a box and inside that box were 65 pairs of new socks and they were all in different colors and patterns. I usually wear just thick, solid colors, but she knows that besides turning 65 years old, I also hate the short days of winter. Yeah, it kind of depresses me. She said that I should put on a new pair socks for the next 65 days and I will get through the winter blahs. I have to admit, she got me. I am usually the crazy one in our relationship, but damn girl, (sounds like lyrics from a boy band) you did it, and you did it good. You got me. I was dumbfounded. I did ask, “I hope you got all of these at a steep discount.”

So I present to you my first pair of Happy Socks on this the first day of the rest of my life., as they say.  I hope you  are also surrounded by Crazy Love and you don’t have to be anything else but yourself, even on your grumpy days!  God Bless Ya! Thank you God for my life and all the wonderful blessings that are part of it. I am sorry I keep using the F word.