SOME THINGS THAT WON’T CHANGE THE WORLD. BUT, I THINK, ARE WORTH THINKING ABOUT.

There are many things that happen to us, as we age, that can make us wonder if we are losing our memory.

I’m talking about walking into a room and having no idea as to why you came in. Having a great thought in a conversation and no recollection as to what that idea was when it’s your turn to speak. Going to pick up one thing from the store, entering and seeing some other items, then returning home and realizing that you did not pick up the item you went out for. There are many more such incidents, but I think that gets the point across.

Some of these items that make us worry might have been happening to us for years, but once we’re past that magic age of 50, or so, we start worrying about it being an effect of aging. I’m suffering from some of those phobias and recently I came up with the ideal that maybe, at least some of, these fears may be unfounded.

I say this because of a recent experience. A couple of my kids borrowed my pick-up truck the other day to move some bigger items. When they returned it, the radio was on one of their stations. I’ve always been stuck in the 50’s and 60’s when choosing my favorite music. That has been a weak point of mine that is often pointed out and got my attention. Because of this flaw, I have been attempting to expand my music taste pallet, so to speak. So I decided to listen to “their” station for as long as I could stand it.

I liked the first song I heard, and I was thinking I would write down the title and performer. I had a notepad (I always keep one handy because of the problem I mentioned above) and planned to pull into a nearby parking lot. It was then that I realized that they never did announce it. I checked the scroll that modern car radios have- it was not there either.

I searched my memory and decided that it has been years since radio stations abandoned the practice of announcing the title and performer before or after every song (Remember, this is the same memory that brings me into rooms and leaves me wondering why I am there, or going to local stores and coming home with everything but what I came for, but sometimes it works). I decided that, because of this, my lack of knowledge, at least musically, is not completely my fault. I blame it on half hour music blocks!

Here is something I found a little bit embarrassing. I have had prostate problems for over 20 years. It’s a problem that the doctors aren’t overly concerned about, we have done numerous tests, colonoscopies etc, but the problem persists. The good news is that the “C” word has not been mentioned. Anyway, back at the original point of this. Three different doctors have tried a variety of drugs and the original problem grows more bothersome.

On my last visit to my current doctor she asked if I would mind taking medication for erectile disfunction to eliminate the unrelated prostate problems. She added that I could, “Kill two birds with one stone.” I honestly answered that I was a divorced man who is not dating so, I commented, “I will only be killing one bird.”

She wrote the prescription.

I went to my pharmacy, where I always have a conversation with the girls behind the counter, to pick up my medication. The girl filled it and had a different kind of smile on her face when she brought it to me. I got home and read the instructions. I was a little surprised when I read, in what appeared to be a larger print, on the bottle TAKE AS NEEDED FOR ERECTILE DISFUNCTION.

In one of my “deep thinking” phases this came to me. “It’s easy to feel like a failure because you know what your expectations are/were.” Few people know that I hoped to be a professional athlete, or that I did not get promotions I put in for etc. Others, I hope, might feel I did alright.

I think about the super-models who agonize over a mole, some other small defect or slight gain in weight. Ninety percent of the world envies them, but when they look in the mirror they only see that small defect.

I think, we are all successes in one way or another. That sounds like a line, but I do believe it. I will oversimplify it by saying, we are on earth only to earn our way into heaven. I believe, God wants us all to join him there. I have been taught that the most vile of sinners can die and, if he is truly repentant, earn a place in heaven by whispering, “Jesus, save me.”

I will subtitle this, REVENGE OF THE ELDERLY HOARDER. Since my wife and I divorced, and she moved out of the house, I have been sharing it with any number of kids and grandkids.

One thing all of the kids agree on is that most of what I save is not necessary and will only cause more work for them when it comes time to clean out the house upon my demise. I, on the other hand, look at it very differently; having been raised by depression era parents. My dad was very handy, and our toys were only thrown away after several repairs. Our wooden baseball bats were not thrown out until they were officially ruled dead. Prior to that we would tape the cracked ones and, when possible, we would save the broken ones by screwing the halves back together. I respected my dad’s ability to save those old soldiers and wanted to do the same for my kids, and my household.

When they were little I sewed many stuffed animals back together, I did the same for the grandkids who lived with me. I am credited with saving many Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles who had suffered amputations from excessive loving and rough playtime.

As far as the household, I have coffee cans filled with screws that I save for, “That day they might come in handy.” I have pieces left over from toilet repairs, drain replacements, screen doors etc. Nightstands from old bedroom sets and end tables from replaced living room set ups. If I was being completely honest, I would admit that I liked the way the basement looked when two of the kids showed me some “tough love” and threw out half of my stuff (That might be an exaggeration) or, at least, some of my stuff.

This difference has caused a lot of back and forth. Recently one of my sons, and his two daughters, moved out and one of my daughters and my ex-wife moved back in. During this transition we came up with a lot of things that needed to be thrown out and some that I (Half-Heartedly) tried to keep in the house. The tough-love faction kept me on my toes.

We hung a TV on the wall in the family room. There was a choice of mounting set-ups in the box. I saved the screws that came with the second set-up. A few weeks later my son bought a new TV and the replacement needed the other set-up. I told them I thought I had those screws in the garage. My daughter ran up to the hardware store and bought the needed screws. Before she returned I found the screws I had saved from the trash heap.

I did not hesitate to tell my kids, my ex-wife and several strangers who happened to be walking in front of the house that, “Sometimes it is a good idea to save things!” My family was not as impressed as I hoped they would be. It could be that the two screws, with tax and a candy bar cost $1.60.

Thank you for reading to the end. Please comment, I would like to hear what your thoughts are. If the comments section does not come up please tap on the title and it should. Sorry for any inconvenience.

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