A MAN, A PLAN, A CANAL: PANAMA

We live in a great country. Yes, it was greater a while ago, but let’s not split hairs. America is the land of opportunity, where anybody (they say) can achieve anything; it just requires hard work, preparation, and of course, a goal. 

But here’s the thing: as one gets older and the goals are met, it gets harder and harder. We are encouraged in this great country of movers and shakers to always look to the future. Life isn’t really worth living unless there is something to work towards. This is grand. However, I am finding it harder and harder to set new goals. 

I got the college degree. Check. I found Mr. Right. Check. Birthed ‘em and raised ‘em. Check. Had that career; wore pantyhose and high heels every day. Check. Bought the dream house and somehow managed to furnish every room. Check. Wrote a blog and published a book. Check. What next? 

I have never learned to tread water. As a matter of fact, my swimming looks more like drowning, so I suppose I could go to the nearest YMCA and enroll in a swim class. But wait. That would necessitate the wearing of a swimsuit, and shaving in places that I would just as soon let alone. So no. 

Maybe I could train for a marathon. Lots of seniors seem to be doing that nowadays. But good heavens, you have to have a ton of stamina, guts, and wear a fanny pack stocked with “energy beads” and stuff like Gatorade and salt packets. Despite all that fortification, most people my age finish a marathon in about seven hours. Seven hours of walking, jogging, and gagging on the salt?  Negative. 

Oh, yes. The art classes. Many old people do watercolors, make pottery, and take up photography. Here’s the thing about that: I have an iPhone that takes great shots. Instagram makes my pictures look as if Diane Arbus took them. And forget the pots, because I don’t want to get clay under my acrylics. Nope. 

There is always the pursuit of youth. Lots of people my age have taken up plastic surgery as a hobby and developed very close relationships with their surgeons. Kind of like having a “blood brother or sister.” I went one time for a laser treatment to get rid of the age spots on my hands, and the exquisite pain that was involved gave me a real feel for the inmates at Gitmo. Never again. 

It is a quandary, all right. But the more I think of it, the more I realize that there is a tremendous window of opportunity still open to me. Thanks to Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg and Jack Dorsey, the world of social media awaits out there for me. 

I figure if I work at it hard enough, eventually I can get the entire world to “like” me.

 

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