About Two Rocking Chairs

Post 103:

            When I’m old, it’d be nice to look back and say I didn’t waste my youth. I’m not exactly a spring chicken, kind of getting to those in-between years. A little bit of experience, a lot more wisdom to gain before I’m anything like sagacious.

            And that’s if I ever get to be a sage. We’ve all met older people that age hasn’t helped. Actually, they’ve lost the spark that allows all that folksy chin-wagging you imagine coming from the rocking chairs of the world.

            I think I’ll have regrets. I mean, who doesn’t? And I’ve got years more of screwing up (God willing) to do, way more regret to amass in the guilt bag that I’ve been toting around since childhood.

            Guess I just don’t want to end up crotchety and stunted because I didn’t try to accomplish this or that. So if I feel like I gotta do it, I’m gonna do it.

            But this brings with it its own kind of other edge. Trying all the time doesn’t mean succeeding all the time. You can turn crotchety by just being a big fat consistent failure. You’re sitting in your rocking chair, thinking about how you went all out only to have the “thing” slip from your fingers time and time again. That’s probably when the chair gives out and you break your hip from the fall. Hey, this version of you isn’t exactly lucky. Just saying.

            But if those are the two types of old people on the porch, I hope I’m the one with the broken hip. The one that kept rocking until everything gave out. This might be the least uplifting blog post of my life, but hey, at least I tried.

            No regrets. Or some regrets. Okay, just not too many regrets. See you after.