Stopping to Smell the Roses

So many people my age suddenly realize that all these years they have never stopped and smelled the roses. My epiphany is that I am past 60 and all I ever did was smell the fucking roses! Saskatchewan farm boy, to university student who couldn't decide on a major, to high school teacher who quit out of boredom, to logger, fisherman, miner, seaman, construction worker.

Finally, since 1977, longshoreman: a job I can handle because I don't have to turn up on any day I choose not to. So long as I put in 800 hours a year, I retain my job and pension credit for that year. The hourly pay is good; I take frequent long holidays, mostly in Latin America.

So what am I bitching about? Probably just grumbling about getting old. Too old for the young women to take me seriously, but still young enough to want them; too old to do a lot of physical things I used to do, but still, in my mind, the same guy who did them 30 years ago. I know all this sounds kind of pathetic but I don't think I am the only one with feelings like this at my time in life. So if you feel kind of like me, or just want to tell me I am a whiner, write and say so. It is nice to connect with someone.