By Fred Prout
A funny thing happened the other morning at the Home For Senior Delinquents.
First, an explanation.
For those of you who may not have reached senior status, a word of warning.
I have recently attained the age of seventy fourteen, and realized that my body is not quite as young as it used to be. This writing is mid January, and my right hip vividly remembers New Years Eve. Previous celebrations ended around 3am. In the morning. No more. This year was a wonderful time. We danced and danced. Slowly. I had such an enjoyable time, I wasn’t prepared to have the DJ play” That Old Time Rock And Roll. “My brain turned off, and my body decided to jump up and make the moves of eons ago. Many eons ago. Since my dance partner was nursing a bum knee, I got up and started gyrating wildly. Like the teenager I no longer am.
When I started to realize that this was a bad, truly dreadful idea, I saw that one of our thirty something year old staff had joined me on the dance floor. There was no way I could allow her to show me up, so the adrenaline kicked in, and I gyrated into high gear.
The next morning I realized what a terrible, idea that was. My right hip hurt.I MEAN HURT!!!! So, for the past couple of weeks I’ve been walking around like Chester on Gunsmoke. (For you youngsters, an old TV western. In black and white. Stay tuned for more on this ).
I know I should get it checked, but, having witnessed my friend Millie get a shot in her knee with a two foot needle, wielded by Doctor Torquemada, I realize that I am too much of a coward to do that. So I limp in pain.
Okay, now back to the present. This morning, the usual breakfasteers dwindled down to Sargent, Agnes and yours truly. After solving most of the world’s problems we walked to the elevator to get home.Agnes noticed that I had stepped on a stray piece of electrical tape and it was stuck on the side of my right shoe. No big deal, right? As it was on the same side as my painful hip, no amount of bending, maneuvering or dancing around the moving elevator would let me reach my foot.
Almost as one, Sargent and Agnes stuck out a foot to step on the offending piece of tape. Three senior people on one leg trying to get a stupid piece of tape off my shoe, when the elevator jerked to a stop. We three wobbled and grabbed the hand rails. Fortunately, nobody fell, but the tape finally relented and was disposed of by bending forward and picking it up. My many years of training by walking the dog paid off.
The moral of the story ? Enjoy life to the fullest. The pain is temporary. The memory of the good times lasts forever.
“There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is not painful.”
― Fernando Pessoa
“The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.”
― C.S. Lewis
“The demon that you can swallow gives you its power, and the greater life’s pain, the greater life’s reply.”
― Joseph Campbell
“Rock on, Fred”
– Eric
Yes indeed … The memory of the good times lasts forever. Thank you Fred.
As usual, a well written and hilarious story! Thank you for the laughs! ( especially since I may know the three other people involved! ) I wish I could have been there !!!! So glad that you had a good time on New Year’s Eve! You deserve it!! Dancing and music are GREAT, and good for the soul, especially when it’s with someone you are fond of! Hope your hip is better- and no, we aren’t eighteen anymore ( nor would I want to be!) and can’t do a lot of things we used to do…oh, but (hopefully) the wisdom we’ve gained! Can’t wait for the next story!
Oh my, can we all relate!!!!
Another one that is so right on. I can totally relate. Pain is definitely no ones friend. I have tried for years to get rid if that pain guy but he is still around. I am still looking for the golden years, they are not at my address. Here’s to you Fred another great one. Hugs to Kelly.
Thanks for the laugh we all need to enjoy our friends and the things we learn from them. I will be 84 soon and am happy I can still go to my exercise class 2 times a week. Keep moving but dance slower.
Thank you, Fred. I needed those laughs and I, too, can relate to the pain.
Keep writing. It helps you, but it also helps the rest of us to get through our days.