I’ve never understood the phrase, “a woman of a certain
age.” Now I do.
There is a certain age when you ask yourself the question
that you never before needed to or dared to ask: “How long will I be around?”
It was my wife, two years younger than I, who first uttered
it aloud several weeks ago.
We had our septic system flushed, and the technician advised
us to schedule the next cleaning in two years.
When he left, my wife turned to me and said, “Will we even
be around in two years?”
She was joking. But it was out there, as Jerry Seinfeld
would say, “like a big matzo ball.”
I’ve read that married couples can quarrel frequently, which
is common in even the happiest relationships. But once the word divorce is said out loud, the couple is
set on a new course that half the time ends precisely in – divorce.
Premonition? Or prediction?
In 2009, Columbia University’s College of Physicians and
Surgeons surveyed trauma surgeons about their patients’ premonitions of death:
·
Ninety-five percent said they’d had patients who
expressed such premonitions
·
Half agreed that these patients had a higher
mortality rate
·
Fifty-seven percent believed patient willpower
affects outcome
I don’t have any premonitions. But I have some questions …
·
Will I be around when my car warranty ends? At
my age, car warranties suddenly seem irrelevant to me. And Hyundai’s new 20
year warranty? Are they nuts?
·
Will I be around to cash in all those miles
cached in my American, Delta and JetBlue frequent flyer programs? Or will I
expire before the miles do?
·
Will I be around to pick even one avocado from
my tree? When we were building our house in Vieques, I warned the landscapist
to plant mature trees in the orchard. “I don’t have a lot of years to sit
around watching trees grow,” I told him. Did he listen? Of course not.
I’m left with the question: Can attitude affect
outcome?
If our attitude does in fact affect the way
things turn out for us, wouldn’t this violate the principle that an effect
cannot occur before its cause?
All I know is that at this point in my life, when people ask
what I want for my birthday or for Christmas, my answer is: “consumables.”
When I was young, I always wondered why old people behind me
or in front of me in the supermarket checkout always bought so much candy.
Now I understand.
These days, I eye the racks of candy rather than the
magazine covers of nearly naked women.
And have you noticed? The checkout lane always has your
favorites on display – Peanut Butter Cups, Snickers, Butterfingers.
Which raises still another question: How do those clever
grocery guys know?
In my next blog, “The Peeps of Paradise: Tapping Vincent Tozzi!”
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