Be Old

Yesterday I tore my hamstring.  Yeah, you guessed it, while SKIING.  On my old 1964 Joe Cash slalom, antique-flat-wood-dinosaur-of-a-board.  “You should learn old people can’t do SOME things,” our 82-year-old neighbor called over as I sat on the pier in agony, clutching ice to the underside of my thigh. 

Thanks.  That helped a lot.  Don’t be stupid.  Be old.

Some hours later, kids and grandkids showed up, a couple of batches, plus some other visitors.  The babies smiled and cooed, the toddlers grinned, and the 6-year-old sidled up to knowingly recount his own horrific stories of various encounters with pain: joint dislocation, nerve damage, and stitches. 

The forecast for the rest of today looks pretty tame.  I get to sit around.  And sit around some more.  You know, Be Old.