I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.
Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
And so i start a new phase of my life. Aimless. Reasonably happy. Healthy, for the most part. Children grown and on their way, mostly. Single, with the love and companionship of a fine dog. Employed, doing something i mostly enjoy, for a good wage*.
No long term plans. Some vague notions of upcoming holidays – skiing in Utah this winter. Greece next summer. Another SCUBA trip. Somewhere. Some time… Continued mucking around with the homestead. Paint this. Replace that. Hang a tapestry. Launder the sheets**.
Volunteering? Nope. Been there, done that. Have developed a mild distaste for it – indicative of my cynical state. Not so much the act of volunteering, but the bleatings of “Look at me! Look at me! I helped some poor people!” have begun to grate on me… It’s other volunteers who drove me underground. Having devoted thousands of hours to various activities over the years, i’m pretty burnt out.
So i ride my bike. Do crunches and push ups and squats and stretches. Walk the dog and pick up his turds in a plastic bag. Re-learn how to run on my recovered knee. Pick through the dusty stack of books on my night stand and choose the first victim. Visit the kitchen and get reacquainted with the strange equipment that lives there….
Watch people. Listen in on the conversations of strangers. Make goofy comments to waiters and store clerks. And enjoy a whole lot of nothing…. Farting around? Highly underrated…
not really mr. pickles, but it could be....
* That last item is somewhat remarkable considering that i was voted “Most Likely to be Found Dead in a Gutter” in the unofficial high school poll… timing and luck have been good to me.
** i flip them periodically… sheesh….