| 7/20/2005 |
YOU GOTTA BE by Des'ree
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I read that James "Scotty" Doohan died today. I'll refrain from any "What will his grave epitath read?" jokes because I'm sure the Internet is already full of them.
I read that he had Alzheimer's. I've only known one person with Alzheimer's and that was a grand uncle's in-law. So it wasn't someone that I had a lot of interaction with. When I did see her she wasn't too bad off yet. She still recognized people and had a hard time getting around prior to any other afflictions of age.
I think I could deal with a lot, but I'm not sure Alzheimer's would ever be something I'd 'want' to do have, if I had a choice. It was pointed out to me that I really wouldn't know what was going on. Yet, during the times when I was lucid, it wouldn't be a time I could 'enjoy' being lucid because I would realize what I was putting my friends and family through.
I fully intend to be kind of cranky crotchety old fogey that people like to be around. I don't want to be a mean spirited geezer, but rather the type that'll make them say, "Oh! That's just our Grandpa" as I stand outside watering large trees with a tiny quirt gun while wearing a paper Burger King crown. The spitfire septuagenarian who would pull out his false teeth to scare the younger neighborhood kids. I want to be the kind of Grandpa that kids are a little freaked out by only because they don't know what crazy shit I may pull.
"Your Grandpa's mean because he tricked me into eating dirt." To which, my own blood relatives would respond, "Well you should know better than to trust someone wearing a T-Shirt that says Food In. Poo out. I don't know how I'd accomplish that, but I've got time to plot.
Is it wrong to want a license to get away with things just because of a person's age? Like when you are a little kid and you can get away with virtually anything because of your age. A bathing suit is acceptable dinner attire when eating at a fast food restaurant. You can wear a pointy birthday hat for no good reason other than you purchased it from the impulse aisle at the grocery store.
I want to be the old man who parks in a handicap spot and then uses a walker to get inside only to ditch it when I get in the door and cruise about Super Target at regular paces.
I want to be the old guy on the block who is known for having the spookiest looking house on Halloween. Where the kids just might easily get a shot of water in the face from a squirt gun as they would a 3 Musketeers bar.
I want my best friend to worry about what I might do on April Fool's day.
I want to be the Grandpa that can sit around with the Grandkids and make fun their parents, my some-day children, because consarnit! They gave me such hell growning up. It's their turn now. I'll live vicariously through them. "Pop rocks in their Rice Krispies should wake your dad up." "Go tell you mother you want to grow up to be LaToya Jackson."
I want a bumper sticker that says "Ask me about my Grandchildren," but when you ask I'll tell you about this potato I bought at the store that looked like Jay Leno.
I want overhear my Grandchildren say, "Grandpa's crazy. Can we come over next weekend mom?"
I want a license to cut someone off in traffic, flip them the bird, and speed off. "Enjoy my bumper stickers, bee-yatch!"
You better watch out world! Because I've got a vivid imagination and plenty of time to plot. |
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I posted this @ 7/20/2005 12:46:00 PM.............Need a link?..........
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