Tuesday, May 31, 2011

48




























Both of my grandfathers died at 48.

I'd like to think that this fact was a bizarre coincidence and will have no affect on my longevity, but when I think of the DNA pool mixing around in me, it makes me wonder.

Sometimes it even makes me sweat.

I have tattoos.

Sixteen as of right now.

Most are not visible, but a few will peek out like the head of a tortoise every once in a while.  At times people will comment on them or ask for significance in them or just say that they like them.

More than once, however, I have heard:
"Yeah.  They look nice now, but they'll sure look stupid when you're eighty."

I nod and smile and I secretly hope that,

 yes,

they will look mighty stupid when I'm eighty -

because I would love to live that long.

Strange how so many people assume that a long life is a bona fide guarantee, as if it was promised to them.

A God-given right.


1 comment:

  1. I am 69 years old now. Nary a tatoo (and I don't miss them either). I am surprised that I have reached this grand old age because I don't think of myself as an 'old man.' I figure (I hope) I have another 5 to 7 good years left before I start doddering into senility and goofydum. I already see some of my older friends descend into state. I keep working and keep involved, hoping maybe that will delay my oldness. So far so good, and without tatoos.

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