I'll Say It Again

I am often amazed that I have made it

this far in life. Friends tell me 73 isn’t

that old these days. You could live to

be in your 80s or even 90s. Not with

the life I’ve led, I won’t.

I have decimated enough brain and liver

cells with my alcoholic excesses to do in

many men much younger than I. Besides,

I’ve been a smoker since I was 12-years old.

Why, I have personally known people

who didn’t make it past their thirties.

If it wasn’t cancer, it was suicide, murder

or accidents. No, just lucky I suppose. I

have dodged a lot of bullets in my time,

metaphorically speaking that is.

There are still times when I think about

the past. I’ll catch myself remembering

a particular time and place, and recall the

year. That was 1973, 47-years ago. Then

I’ll calculate how many years need to be

added to that to get me here and now.

Damn! I’m 73 friggin’ years old. As a young

man, even into my early sixties I never ex-

pected to be disabled with arthritis in my

later years.

I’ve known impaired old folks before, and

I used to think, poor old crippled Joe, he has

a hard way to go. Wouldn’t want to be in that

shape when I come of age. And then there

was Maggie in her early seventies who was

afflicted with several painful maladies. “I wish

the Good Lord would just take me,” she would

often say.

And now I am there; I have arrived. Don’t get

me wrong, whether genes, attitude, luck or

misfortune got me to this place, I can’t complain.

And as my old friend Connie and countless millions

of others throughout the ages have said over and

again, “It wouldn't do any good if I did.”

Even though they don’t really mean it, old people

say that a lot.

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 8-5-2020