NEEDED....A CUTTING EDGE

I have made a determination of today’s Sr. citizen in America. You cant get through life here without a pair of succors and an assorted number of sharp instruments. If you have any intentions of eating the breakfast of champions, you could spend your whole morning trying to break into the tough wax paper if you don’t have your grandkids around as it’s impossible trying to get through that wax paper without a sharp instrument. Never let it be said our packaging isn’t sufficiently protecting that precious product they just got your money for. Oh, Its not for you, all that plastic and cardboard, its for the dingbat that wants to put powdered strychnine in your Cherrios (they must have powdered strict nine by now,)
And the medicine bottles of endless pills where the warning says keep away from children, I haven’t met anyone yet that hasn’t given it to the grandkids to open.

I love electronic toys and gadgets but Im almost through trying to purchase them because I havent figured out how you break open the plastic from the marketing paper with the brights pictures and instructions, without the kind of sicsors used for metal cutting, and in my old age iv’e acquired soft hands and not strength in them. I even considered shooting a package once…………and I had good hands then. Now with my oxygen they have taken away the easy open plastic tab and replaced it with a strip of tape, even my hard nails cant cut through so here I am, looking through drawers for a weapon I can carry in my cyclinder bag. So far I havent found one.

And what is the tiny printing about these days? Every bill I get including my bank statement is printed in a font so small I have to get a magnifying glass to read them and that’s not just us old folks, who can read that mess?

THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER

We have all grown up with the old wives tales, myths and legends of human life. I will bet most of us were told there are no monsters and no such thing a ghosts, BUT, a paltry few of us or maybe all of us if we are honest have stepped into that time machine, that tear in the fabric of space-time and have shuddered from passing a cold spot in a house. Ever heard an electronic recording of a ghost? Ever seen one, felt one, passed one? What's that out of the corner of your eye?

In Church they told us, we die and are buried in the earth then on the day Jesus comes again we will all rise up and go "home" with him. Yeah OK. I'm asking, if that is really true, who is the Jersey Devil? Who is Bigfoot? Where did that ghosts that just crossed the room go? And why are the hand prints of little kids still being seen on the trunks of cars trying to push them over the tracks out of harms way? What is up with this? So why do preachers still tell you that lie? Because they are no closer to the truth than we are, but one thing I'm learning, the quantum physics of the modern age is beginning to make sense even if the Church doesn't.

According to the the multidimensional theory, time is non local, exists on all levels then, now, our future and we all have access to other dimensions even if we don't know how to get there. I'm thinking what if the ghosts we see are simply residual lives imprinted on a strip of space-time in another dimension and the replay button is stuck so it plays over and over. And what if the monsters we hear of are really from another dimension they have found the door too and have become masters of slipping through it then back, leaving few traces that soon slip away. Not all will admit to it being real, they'll classify it under hallucinations and laugh at the people who have just encountered their first black hole incident. You know, the ones the flying saucers and ET's use. The truth is the scariest thing you will ever experience because that is where the real world is and that lie your Momma told you isn't even close to reality. The world is changing, heading at breakneck speed to the other side. Wanna take a ride?

BACK IN THE DAY

The older I get the more nostalgic I become. Maybe my mortality is kicking me in my short term memory or people I know are dying too young. I want to yell "wait and see the new 3D movie to some and make me remember how funny church was" to others. At the building I'm living in, a friend is making birdhouses for us to get and decorate, then hang in the yards around the building. They will be happy doing that I suppose but I want to make a Juke Joint, dancers, band, barbecue and all. I want something to remind me of the fun Ruth and I had dancing in places we probably shouldn't have been at all.

At other times when I'd sit with friends in The Cab, Barbecue sauce would run down my chin while I gnawed away on a rib trying to keep it off my clothes, and the aftermath of dancing in places with raggedy floors filled with sawdust that clung to your stockings, well you knew it was going to be a fight to get it all off without running them, when you got home.

Three fourth of all my life's knowledge came from those nightlife places. And even when I was old enough to legally be in them, I often times told my Mother how awful some were she'd told me not to go to. She just laughed, she knew me so well, she knew I was only going to dance and probably hoped I had enough sense to stay out of the big trouble. Those were great times, like doing Halloween at 18 years of age. I honestly didn't see anything wrong with it but Mom in her wisdom told me at five foot eight, I was too old to go trick or treating anymore. I told her no I wasn't, Carl Charles was 22 and he was still going with us. I did stop though, and as it should be, that memory slipped back along side the others and now I just smile thinking of it. Maybe if I'd been shorter......................................