Mortality: Overrated?

I haven’t been near this keyboard for most of a week.  Once upon a time you couldn’t pry me away from the thing, but these days other matters intervene.  This is not necessarily a bad thing.  F’r’instance, you can’t blog about a life you don’t have.

My life.  Let’s look at that a little more closely, shall we?  Not “My Life”, as in a biographical context; I mean “my life” as in a pondering of the likelihood of truncated longevity*.  Statistically, when considering my parents’ lifespans and those that went before, I have approximately twenty years before I hop that Midnight Train (is The Great Beyond anything like Georgia?  Is the Afterlife muggy?).  That estimate is reinforced by my unfortunate lifestyle choices; most of my life I’ve spent idle; eating and drinking too much while getting too little exercise, and smoking like I was allergic to air.  I’ve expunged the worst of those, but perhaps it’s too late?  I’ve spent more years unhealthy than I have otherwise.

Then there’s the bicycle.  My general fitness is much improved in part because I ride pretty often, but the frequency also ups my chances of the Early Exit via vehicular misadventure (something we’ve seen too much of here recently).  I’ll take those odds, obviously, but I’ll admit there are times when I join the speeding metal boxes on the road that I wonder what the Hell makes me want to do it.  Actually there are times I wonder the same when on the relatively safer Springwater trail; if anything the CTQ** is worse there during peak hours, but at least my inhalation of exhaust fumes lessens.

Possibly my most potent nemesis is The Big Casino.  There are incidences of cancer on both sides of the family, so the odds that I’ll receive a slice of that pie are quite high.  I’d rather go out under a Winnebago than waste away from the inside out, frankly.  I have little say in that apparently, because I can make all the best choices in food, exercise, and lifestyle and still contract cancer because of a genetic disposition.   If this turns out to be the case, I’ll be SO mad.

Saint Peter:  “Welcome to Heaven.  We hope you’ll enjoy—”

Me:  “Is there chocolate cake and pizza in there?  And  Lucky Strikes?”

SP:  “I beg your pardon?”

Me:  “I want chocolate cake and pizza and Lucky Strikes, and all the other  godd– uh, dang stuff I missed out on in my useless attempt to delay this little meet’n’greet.   I want some satisfaction, man!”

SP:  “Uh…”

Guy Behind Me:  “Dudes, is this gonna be awhile?  You should have a food court out here or somethin’…”

Me:  “Back off!  I have bed sores and my nasal passages are raw from having tubes stuck up in there for the last year!  What were you, a quick mulching accident?  Wait your turn!”

SP:  *flip* *flip* *flip*

Me:  “What are you doing there?”

SP:  “I’m making sure you aren’t in the wrong line.”

“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

I use post-it notes to remind me of subjects I wish to research.  I stick the post-its on the monitor.  It strikes me as absurd that I affix a low-tech device to a (middling) high-tech device to remind me to use the high-tech device, but many people do this so at least I’m not alone.

Upon this morning’s post-it are written the items “Episcopal Church” and “statism”.  I have already read up on these subjects.  Right now I’m chatting with my brother via IM while writing this AND contemplating the fact that I haven’t read any ForumGarden posts yet this week.  I have to cop to feeling just a bit stressed about this, and because of that I feel foolish.  If there was no such phrase as “artificial stress”, there is now.  Here’s a fine definition of that: When the cable DVR starts stacking up with programs we haven’t yet watched, I start resenting television.  I’d feel better about it if it was stacked up with Ken Burns documentaries or “The News Hour with Jim Lehrer”, but more often it’s some on-the-fly recording from the “History” Channel (Unidentified Submerged Objects!  Red Alert!).  This is yet one more indication that our love of technology really isn’t doing us any favors.  I’m not saying I want to go live with the Amish***, but there are times I wish I had the guts to throw all this junk out and learn to once again be content with books, and walks through the neighborhood, and coffee and newspapers on the front stoop****.

Seeing as how it’s getting more expensive to live, I may get my wish sooner than I expect.

Today’s Quote:    “If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?”   -Rumi

*  That sentence just sucks raw.

**  Clueless Twit Quotient

***  The Amish got it goin’ on.  I’m a fan of the Amish.  I just don’t think I’m  cut out for the lifestyle.

****  We don’t really have a stoop now.  We did once, and it rawked.

*****  This was an asterisk-intensive post this time around.

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