Numerical Crisis

It's a state of mind. Or a state of denial. Call it what you will. It's that feeling of agelessness. Not defying the calender. More like completely ignoring it.

Swiss writer Henri Amiel said, "I'm not interested in age... You're as old as you feel."

What then if you don't feel 8, 18 or 80? What if from day to day or moment to moment it varies?

Case in point; a recent decision to attend a concert of a very loud, very kick-ass country band & company. Something I've done for years and years (not that anyone's counting here.) Going in, if I had to call it, I'd say I was about 22 tops. Halfway through I was somewhere in my mid-teens to early 30's. Two and a half hours later, my eardrums banging like a steel drum on sonic boom, I was 76 on a good day.

Sigh.... It isn't an identity crisis I'm having these days. It's a numerical crisis.

I suppose there are some positives to this little conundrum, particularly when writing YA and the need arises to channel my inner 17-year-old snot nose. She's still there, bless her tenacious soul.

Right next to the little old lady knitting those God-awful potholders that nobody really ever uses.

Someday I will figure out how old I actually am. Someday I imagine I'll shed this chronological chameleon skin for one that fits just right all the time. Until then it's anybody's ball game. Or concert. So, as the man says, "turn it up" and for goodness sake keep it down!

Speaking Of Amazing

I recently lost a very dear friend of mine. He was too young to leave this earth; his departure sending a shock wave through a great many people who loved him like I did. So I've had "friend" on the brain this past week or two - thinking about those relationships we forge with others entirely by choice. Most times they seem to arrive via other means. This man and I were once related, though in the end our bond stood unsevered by broken marital ties; the friendship remaining graciously in tact.

It's a rare and glorious thing, to join forces with someone outside of yourself. Should you hail from Missouri and require more substantial proof, might I suggest you visit your local movie house and take in "The King's Speech." This is a brilliantly written and acted account of two men who form a mutually dependent and beautiful union of souls. Although, were I here to report as a critic, I would be obliged to inform that my significant other spent the 2 hours patiently waiting for a decent car chase or the mass destruction of a small alien nation, which did not happen. (An action flick this is not.) But I digress. I spent the 2 hours thinking about the way the universe has of bringing us the people we need to have in our lives. Then I was glad that somebody took the time to write it so eloquently that it be turned into a film.

And then I was reminded that we must hold close those who we cherish. For what's its worth - call them. Let them know. I'd been meaning to call. I was too late.

I've been told that my dear friend who resides in heaven now thought I was amazing. Funny.

That's exactly what I thought about him, too.