In February 1965, recording artist, Sam Cooke's subliminal protest song, "A Change Gonna Come" hit the Top 40 charts. The song's theme spoke about impending social changes regarding civil rights. The song could well have been a forewarning about my BODY!
It is fact, my teeth and hair are jumping ship. I sneeze more and sleep less. I can hear just fine if one speaks equal to the volume of rocket boosters at lift off. My eyesight is fading; watching television last week, I mistakenly thought Roseanne Barr was Albert Pujols. The combination of poor vision and the inability to turn my arthritic-neck causes me to consider installing a back-up 'beeper' on my automobile.
Each morning, my lower extremities remind me of three previous back surgeries as I coax my feet to move forward. A quick look at my skin, as I shave reminds me of Crocodile Dundee. As I slip into my socks, I notice that my toenails are turning the color of 'field' corn and they are suddenly growing downward and tearing holes in my socks. Thank goodness for Grandpa E. V.'s grandfather's clock, which chimes on the half-hour, it reminds this fading short term memory to let the Toy Poodle, Yodie to go outside for a potty-break. On the subject of biological needs, I note that most of my walking exercise is now frequent night-time urine trips to the bathroom.
In an attempt to remain presentable, I now wear a rubberband around my wrist. This rubberband serves as a reminder for me to periodically check my zipper-fly and the end of my nose for objects that should NOT be on the end of one's nose; I told you I was sneezing a lot!
Enjoy your weekend. My wife and I are headed to Jacksonville to Bill Kaufmann's visitation and then we plan to watch granddaughter, Erica do her cheerleading thing at the Crimsons' home football opener.
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